Can't Help Falling in Love with You
by Darryl J
Summary: Post Season 7 with some spoiler speculation for the end. Viginettes of Buffy and Spike together through the years. *FINISHED* Chapter 10--Love Me Tender
1. Are You Lonesome Tonight?

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Can't Help Falling in Love (with you) or

The Elvis Series

A/N: This is an idea I got the other day listening to the Elvis Top 30s CD. So many of the songs screamed out Buffy and Spike and I felt compelled to do something about it. It will be similar to my _Do What You Have to Do _fic; more character piece than plot. Actually, this fic will expand over several years, taking snapshots of the characters lives. This will be a medium length fic, approximately 15 chapters or so and each chapter will be named after an Elvis song (or famous line from an Elvis song). Most of the chapters will have the song lyrics to them; sometimes they will be changed (when Buffy or Spike is singing the song) to fit our characters. This fic, for the most part, it will be very light and fluffy. There will be a handful of chapters (including the first two) that will be heavy on the angst, but after that, it's gonna be fun. I think our Spuffy needs to have fun, don't you? 

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Spoilers: Some rumored spoilers from the last five episodes but for the most part will be Post-Season 7. 

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Disclaimer: All characters are Joss's and yada, yada, yada. You know the drill. And none of the lyrics are mine, either. 

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Rating: R, just to be on the safe side. 

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Are You Lonesome Tonight?

He never hid from the reality that it would happen. Why fight what was inevitable? Still, knowing something and experiencing it were on two opposite ends of the bloody spectrum. He had tried his damnedest to keep hope from springing forth at the subtle niceties Buffy graced him with, the pleasant changes in their relationship. Of course, he had failed miserably in that department; but he couldn't be blamed. He had volunteered to leave this god-forsaken town and what did she do? 'I'm not ready to not have you here', followed by those incredibly beautiful doe eyes of hers glancing his way. That admission was enough to crumble the foundations from his decision not to hope and he had become the same lovesick ponce—albeit not as obvious this time—as he used to be. 

"Should've left like the rest of 'em," he said and eyed the amber liquid that sloshed back and forth in the tiny shot glass. There was no doubt that if he had left then that things would have been easier for him. 'Course, there was that tiny ordeal with the First she had needed him for. 

"Didn't need me for that, now did she?" he muttered and gulped down the liquor, thankful for the distracting burn as it slithered down his throat. He had already downed a bottle of Yagermeister and was halfway through a bottle of Tequila but the bitterness remained. In fact, everything that had happened over the past week and a half seemed to magnify, coming into focus with supernatural precision—which wasn't bloody right at all, considering that alcohol was supposed to make you forget. And here he was, his mind still reeling from what he had seen twelve days ago, right after the most meaningful night of his life.

_Can't you see, I love you _

Please don't break my heart in two

That's not hard to do

Cause I don't have a wooden heart. 

The words sung by the less than attractive Kralic demon burrowed into the haze of bitter consciousness that Spike still maintained. His eyes scanned the crowd and he shook his head in horror, noticing for the first time that the majority of the patrons were dressed in Elvis garb. God, he couldn't get away from poofters and Nancy-boys…er, demons, if he tried. He had come here because, for once, he didn't desire violence to lift his black mood and this Caritas was supposed to be the place for that. The blighters wove to and fro, cheering the Kralic—whom, if Spike was honest, didn't have that bad of a voice. In fact…

_There's no strings upon this love of mine_

It was always you from the start.

It was then that the words hit him. All humor and disgust drained from his face, replaced by an irrevocable sadness. 

_Treat me nice_

Treat me good 

Treat me like you really should

Cause I'm not made of wood

And I don't have a wooden heart. 

His gaze fell to the floor, studying the scuffs along his Doc Martens. This was a demon bar and there was no bloody way he was going to let it get out that William the Bloody was a ponce who cried. Oh, yeah, he didn't deny that the sting that pilfered his retinas and the hazy film that blurred his vision were tears; he had moved past lying to himself. But that didn't mean that he had to let everyone else in on that secret. 

As the song ended and the applause reverberated through the room, Spike sensed a presence beside him. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and stared at whoever had the stones to invade his privacy. He was taken aback at the sight that greeted him. 

"Hey, Sugar Cakes," the green-skinned demon said and smiled, blinding Spike with the brightest set of pearly whites the vampire had ever seen. Aside from that, the only other thing about the demon that stood out was…well, everything. 

The stubby horns and crimson eyes were not particularly prominent—but the sodding suit that he was decked out in screamed out for attention. It was the babiest of bloody blues that the vampire had ever seen and had a tie to match. The plaid shirt—and who, by the way, still wore that aside from lumberjacks?—was diametrically opposite. It was an interesting mixture of black, purple and, what the bloody hell?—gold flyway collars. It hurt the vampire's eyes to stare at the ensemble too long, so he turned his attention to the argument on stage. Evidently the next performer wanted to sing a Capella—something his buddies seemed to oppose vehemently. 

Spike poured himself another glass of Tequila, intent on ignoring the demon to his left. He scrutinized the liquid through the thick glass before downing it and slamming the glass to the table. When he looked up the demon was gone and Spike sighed in relief…until he turned around and came face-to-face with the demon. 

"Feel free to join me," the vampire said and rolled his eyes. "I was only ignoring you so you'd take it upon yourself to pull up a chair." 

"Whoa now, Super Cheeks," the demon said and raised his hands in peace. "Me no enemy. Me friend." 

Spike's mood darkened even more at the demon's amiable tone. "Vampire, mate. Don't got any friends." Though he tried to go for disinterested and menacing, Spike heard the sadness that tinged his words. 

The demon smiled and crossed his legs. He regarded Spike for a minute in a way that unnerved the vampire. It was something about the other demon's eyes that weren't quite right…as if they were looking straight through to Spike's…

"Wow," the demon said and whistled. "And here I thought Angel Baby was the sole recipient of that little gift." Spike frowned at the demon and his casual repose melted into battle ready tension. The other demon saw the change in Spike's demeanor and laid a hand on the vampire's forearm. 

"I come in peace, my blue-eyed Adonis." Spike glanced at the demon's hand on his arm and back up to the bloodshot eyes. The demon got the message and raised his hands as a peace offering. "Sorry. I'll remember to not make with the touching again." 

" 'S good strategy to 'ave. Great 'ealth plan too." 

"Health plan?" 

Spike chuckled. "Yeah. Guarantees you not to be dismembered by one pissed off vampire. Quite a perk, wouldn't you say." 

"Angel told me you were one with the hostility but I never thought that you'd be able to match Mr. Brood-tacular with the sulking." Spike gave the demon a warning growl and though he had originally come here to avoid trouble, he wouldn't back away from it. 

"If I were you, mate, I'd forget you ever saw me, mosey on over to that both over there where that Kralic demon is obviously waiting for you and get back on with my life."

"I would do that, Spike if you weren't screaming to be heard." 

"What the bloody 'ell are you yammerin' about?" 

The demon stuck up his hand and Spike systematically ignored it. It didn't dapper the demon's disposition in the least. "Not Zen with the contact, huh? Anyway, the name's Lorne, and I'm the owner of this humble abode."

"Bully for you. Wha's that gotta do with harrassin' the customers?" 

"Well, it's quite simple really. I read auras." 

Spike chuckled. He glanced back at the Kralic demon who anxiously wrung his hands then back to this Lorne character. "Through Karaoke?" 

"Well…" 

"You have to be bloody well kiddin' me!" Spike shouted and was greeted by several menacing glares. 

"Hey, Buddy," the demon on stage said, "could you tone it down. I'm trying to get in the mood up here." 

"Sod off," the Brit replied and scowled at Lorne's amused expression. 

"Mr. Hostility back at it again. What gigantic Bezeor burrowed its way into your tush?" On Spike's befuddled, and obviously, unamused look, Lorne shook his head. "All right, bad joke. Getting back to my point, yeah, I do read auras through singing. Kinda amazing for someone from a music-less dimension, huh?" 

"What?" 

"Forget I mentioned it. But that's not the only way for me to read you. Singing makes it clearer but if there's enough pain involved, it calls to me nonetheless. Like with you." He leaned closer towards the vampire as if he were about the part wisdom of the ages and when Lorne spoke, his voice was a scant whisper although the vampire could here it clearly enough. "She was here the other day, looking for you." 

A pained expression crossed Spike's face and he had to fight with everything he had not to jump across the table and rip the truth from Lorne's chest, sanctuary spell be damned. "She was now?" he asked with a weary indifference. "Mind tellin' me who you're goin' on about, mate, cause, I know a lot of 'she's'." 

"Yeah, but only one is Chosen, isn't that right?"

Spike shrugged and returned his attention back towards the stage. The soon-to-be performer had just finished discussing the particulars of the performance and now, with mic in hand, he was about to begin. 

"You won't wanna miss this solo. Gets 'em every time," Lorne whispered conspiratorially across the table. "Take a gander and I'll be right back." 

"Take your time," Spike replied. Bloody wankers, he thought, never know how to leave a bloke be. 

He would have continued the rant were it not for the song that blindsided him as soon as the first note was sung. 

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Are you lonesome tonight,  
do you miss me tonight?  
Are you sorry we drifted apart?

Buffy. Even if he tried, nothing could remove the image forever burned into his mind of his slayer as she slept next to him. Her petite form had fit perfectly against his side. The dream to hold her so intimately had never died though the realistic expectations had long ago and when she had come to him with tears in her eyes, Spike half expected himself to wake up. But it was no dream. It was as real as the love he carried for her that suffused through his entire being. 

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Does your memory stray to a brighter sunny day  
When I kissed you and called you sweetheart?  
Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?  
Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?

He had observed her the entire night, getting no more than an hour of sleep. During that time he had wondered what it was like for her, what her dreams were like. Was he ever in them? Did she ever smile thinking about him, about what they could be? _  
_

Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?  
Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?

Those thoughts had died when he thought about the pressure that was on her. Though he didn't understand everything that had happened, evidently she had been ostracized by her friends, blamed herself for a potential's death and still hadn't found a way to defeat the First. No, he had no illusions that she was here for comfort; not out of love, not out of desire or devotion. Comfort. Plain and simple. 

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I wonder if you're lonesome tonight  
You know someone said that the world's a stage  
And each must play a part.  
Fate had me playing in love you as my sweet heart.

Spike ignored the raspy deliverance of the spoken dialogue and was instead transfixed by the words that spelled out exactly what he felt. 

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Act one was when we met, I loved you at first glance  
You read your line so cleverly and never missed a cue

He saw Buffy, dancing in the Bronze with her friends that first night he breezed into town. The scent of fear at his declaration to kill her was invigorating. But that same scent had vanished when they fought, transformed into a lust for the fight, for the dance they had done so well. 

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Then came act two, you seemed to change and you acted strange  
And why I'll never know.

Her change had started during Joyce's illness. There were times that she had treated him like a man, like part of the group. And before she died, they were so close to…But it didn't matter because it all changed when she returned. They had almost been friends before--before everything was wrecked. 

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Honey, you lied when you said you loved me  
And I had no cause to doubt you.  
But I'd rather go on hearing your lies  
Than go on living without you.

He wasn't that bloody stupid. She'd never said what they had was love. Needing and loving were two different things. He had been needed for the apocalypse and as a shoulder to cry on--no more, no less. She did care for him, that much he knew, but it wasn't love. Still, there were times when he imagined that it would be; that she would see the change in him enough to love him. If he hadn't seen her with the Poof, he would have continued to lie to himself until he was dust covering the bloody ground. Now…

__

  
Now the stage is bare and I'm standing there  
With emptiness all around  
And if you won't come back to me  
Then make them bring the curtain down.

Oh the soddin curtain was down, all right. It had lowered and chopped him in two. Seeing her and Angel together--he thought nothing could ever hurt as much as seeing the fear and loathing in her eyes after he had tried to...God, how wrong he was. Even now, after nearly a fortnight the pain had not lessened. In fact, each passing day had seen it increase, filling him with the realization that nothing he did would ever be enough for anyone. 

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Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?  
Tell me dear, are you lonesome _tonight?_

As the cheers filled Caritas, Spike rubbed at his eyes, noticing for the first time the tears that he had shed. He turned towards Lorne--who had reappeared by his side--and saw the sympathy in the other demon's eyes. He wanted to feel anger at being pitied but the gash that bled his soul would not allow it. No matter what he tried to do, no matter what he tried to think of, all he could see was Buffy kissing Angel. And despite her change in attitude over the past few months, all he could hear were her words the night they had broken their tenuous friendship last year. 

"I was just convenient," he said. He stared at Lorne's blurry image before it got to be too much. "I…I can't stay here. I…" Words failed him and walked past the demon. 

"Spike, wait," Lorne said and grabbed the vampire's hand. He stopped but didn't turn his head towards the other demon. "Where're ya goin'?" 

"Anywhere but here." 

"Sweetie, listen to me. You can't always trust your eyes. Sometimes you see things and what you see may not be what's really going on." 

Spike chuckled humorlessly. "You're right, you know. Two soul mates snoggin' out in the middle of the good old outdoors isn't really that, is it? That's the way they say 'hello', innit?" 

Lorne sighed and Spike saw the sadness in his eyes. The vampire wasn't sure if it made things easier or harder but he wasn't going to stay around to find out. 

"'S what I thought. Look mate, thanks for the shoulder but the Big Bad don't need one to cry on." He'd like to do that in silence. Yep, have himself a good cry, maybe kill something beforehand. 

"Look, Kid…" 

Spike whirled around and pinned Lorne with furious blue eyes. "No, you listen. Give. It. Up. I can't be saved, understand? Givin' up? Too late. Already 'ave. She was right all along. I'm nothing but convenient, you hear? Yeah, I may still do good but never here. Once I leave this god forsaken place, this soddin' state, I will never set foot in it again. Ever. Nothing can make me come back and nothing sure as hell can make me stay." 

Lorne broke the gaze and peered over Spike's shoulder. His morose features dissipated and Spike was taken aback at the return of the supernova smile. Lorne released Spike's hand and readjusted his suit. He patted Spike on the shoulder and said, "You sure about that?" 

Spike watched the strange demon saunter towards the stage. The platinum blonde shook his head in confusion and turned back towards the exit…

And had the wind knocked out of his undead lungs. 

She was five feet away and he hadn't even sensed her. She stood there, hazel eyes glistening in the dim lights and hair hanging like a curtain past her shoulders in that way he loved. Her white blouse hung tightly across her breasts and the black leather skirt clung to her small hips. 

She was beautiful. 

"Spike." Her voice thrust Spike out of his stupor and he took two steps closer, the buzz from the alcohol suspended by her very presence. He was close enough to touch her, to smell the vanilla scent of her lotion and the fragrance underneath that was all Buffy. 

But it couldn't be her. Why would she come to him? How would she even know where to look? No, it had to be an illusion. It had to be--and there was only one way to find out. 

He lifted his arm to her face, unable to steady his trembling limb. He was so close to her that the heat from her flesh burned his hand. Her eyes never wavered and the hazel jewels sparkled even more when he made contact with her skin. She leaned into the touch and exhaled. The simple action was almost too much for the vampire and he let out a hysterical chuckle. 

"Yes, Spike," she said and mimicked his gesture. The warmth of her hand coaxed the suspended tears from his eyes and the next thing he knew, Spike was on his knees and in the arms of his slayer. 

He didn't know what the hell was going on but he wouldn't take this for granted ever again. 

Especially since this was the last time he would ever hold her. 

TBC in Chapter 2: **_Fools Rush In…_**


	2. Fools Rush In

Chapter 2 

**__**

Fools Rush In

They stared at one another across the table for several minutes. Despite the noise surrounding them, the two former lovers, slayer and vampire, were trapped in their personal bubble of silence. The tension pushed and pulled at them as they fumbled over what to say in vain. Buffy smiled to herself at the thought of what they must look like to the casual observer; two teenagers on a first date, praying desperately to say the right thing and not sound like a moronic bore. _Well, someone has to go first; might as well be me. _

"So," she said, and concentrated on her wringing hands. She knew her actions gave away the nervousness that beat across every cell but it didn't matter, not when your companion was a vampire; her heartbeat was running its own personal marathon and every breath she took made her feel as if the oxygen was being siphoned from her lungs. 

"So how have you been?" she asked and mentally smacked herself for the idiotic question that was delivered in that an overtly chipper tone of false exuberance. She winced at Spike's agitated glare but was somewhat relieved at that familiar show of emotion. Moody and sullen Spike she could deal with but teary Spike—well, that was a whole other story. 

"Wayne Newton over there said you were lookin' for me the other day," he said, nodding towards Lorne. "Why? And how did you know I was here?" 

Spike's venomous tone startled Buffy but she kept her face cheerful. It was an effort in and of itself as she was reminded of the last real talk they had had two weeks ago. 

She forced the memory away, not wanting to feel the guilt of what had happened with Angel immediately following her and Spike's heart-to-heart. The only good thing about it was that Spike hadn't seen the two of them together.

"Gonna answer me anytime soon, Slayer?" 

"I, uh, I mean…" she stumbled over her words, cursing her thoughts failure to recognize the need for order. She wanted to say so much, ask him so many things; yet she was clueless in where to start. "Why did you leave?" Well, two points for succinctness, bonus for the smooth evasion of questions one and two. 

Spike chuckled humorlessly and Buffy recoiled when he stared at her, disdain coating his cerulean gaze. "Why did I leave? That's a rich one, Slayer."

"What are you talking about? Was it because of what I said that night?" 

"Don't know what you mean, _luv,"_ he said, and somehow made the term sound dirty and Buffy cringed, her mind replacing the once affectionate nickname with bitch or slut which, from the contempt in his eyes, was exactly how it meant it. 

"You never even said goodbye." She tried to go for annoyed but even she recognized the sadness that tainted her words. Going by the slight flinch in his eyes, Spike had, too. His compassion was short-lived, however, quickly replaced by inexorable pain and anger. 

"Oh, you're right, Slayer, I should 'ave said goodbye. But you know what? I was tryin' to be considerate. Didn't want to interrupt you and the Poof durin' your oh so spectacular snoggin' session." 

"Spike--what are you talking about?" He couldn't know, could he? 

"Don't lie to me, Buffy. You've done enough of that already." 

"I--"

"Don't!" He slammed his fist into the table and Buffy jumped back in surprise. Several patrons turned towards the duo but the stares went unnoticed. 

He knew. She didn't know how, or when, but he knew.

"I saw you," he said, confirming her suspicions, "both of you." Buffy could only stare at him in shock. The guilt that she thought gone slammed into her stomach, knocking the wind and any type of reply from her. She shook her head, dumbfounded, willing her mind to form a single thought before the silence caused Spike to implode. Too late, she thought as he opened his mouth and Buffy tensed for the words that would undoubtedly cut her with surgical precision. 

"Why did you do it, Buffy?" he asked and the softness of his voice stunned her. "Do you still love him, still wanna be with him? Did you just want me around so you wouldn't be alone? Was that why you weren't ready for me to not be here? Was that why you said that night didn't have to mean anything?" 

So many questions to answer, so many directions this conversation could go, most of them down into the land of much badness. Buffy's eyes, for the most part, concentrated on the thick shot glass, every so often stealing glances at Spike's emotionally overloaded eyes. She refused to maintain contact, afraid that, at any moment, he would burst into tears. And that was something Buffy definitely couldn't handle. 

"You're wrong, Spike," she said, surprising herself with the confidence of her tone. 

"About what?" 

"About everything." 

"So, mine eyes did deceive me? I didn't see you and Angel havin' yourselves quite the snogfest?"

"No, that did happen." 

"So tell me, oh Chosen One, what exactly was it that I was wrong about?"

"That I asked you to stay just because I didn't want to be alone. That that night together didn't mean anything. You are so wrong," she said. She felt the tears only after Spike's eyes widened, the liquid hurt burning down her cheeks. His features softened and Buffy's resolve began to unravel. But she refused to give up; Spike needed to know this, she needed to hear it herself. And there was only one way for that to happen. 

"When the First had you, I was so scared. Not only was I getting my ass kicked by Count Ugula and babysitting for a bunch of teenage hormone bombs, I was missing the one thing, the one person that tethered me to the ground all last year when the only thing I wanted to do was float away. I cried into my pillow every night, you know. I never told anyone but I think Dawnie knew all along. I couldn't sleep, could barely eat and when I did it didn't always stay down. I was a wreck and it was only a matter of time before I cracked. 

"But then I found you and everything started to fall back into place. It hurt me so bad, what I said to you in front of everyone the night Chloe died, but I had to do it. I had to have you at your best. And it wasn't just for the fight but for me. Of course, I didn't realize that until that night." 

"What do you mean by that?" 

Buffy risked a glance and was relieved that the anger had drained from Spike's face. She sighed and decided to take a chance, pulling his immaculate fingers into her hand. "I mean that…I need what you give me, Spike. Strength. Honesty. Support. Acceptance. Love." 

"Angel can give you those, even with the jerry-rigged soul." 

"No one can give me all those things. And even if they could, I wouldn't care. Not if it wasn't you." Spike blinked incredulously at her and Buffy knew things were moving way too fast. But she didn't have a choice. She had to get it all out now before she clammed-up per her usual. 

"But Angel…" 

"It was a mistake, Spike. A huge, unbelievably stupid, 'Buffy-is-a-dunce' mistake." She giggled mirthlessly. "I'm taking it that you didn't see the aftermath of the kiss where I pushed him away." 

" 'fraid not," Spike admitted. "Guess I was too busy keepin' my guts from spilling onto the ground." 

"Spike, I'm so sorry…" 

"Don't, Buffy. Don't apologize if you're just gonna tear the bleedin' stitches out." 

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?" 

"I hear you, Slayer, but you 'aven't said anything I 'aven't heard before." Okay, that was so not true and Buffy had the fleeting desire to do just that--flee. But she couldn't, she had to let everything out on the table. 

Determination possessed her and Buffy knew there was only one way to get him to listen. She stood and walked away from the table, patting Spike on the shoulder when he frowned. She pulled Lorne to the side and peeked at Spike while talking to green-skinned demon. Were it not for the desperation of their predicament, she would have laughed at his confused stare. Instead, she followed Lorne to the stage, grabbing the mic when he offered. 

"Hey," she said, and her body was rigid with self-consciousness. She wasn't worried about the demons that glared at her, some with contempt or fear, others in mild fascination; her biggest concern was the platinum blonde vampire whose gaze pierced her very soul. All of the sudden, other parts of her started to tense, but this time not in a bad way. 

"Umm, I've never really done the singing thing before…well, that's not quite true. See there was this dancing demon that came to town last year. His name was Sweet and…" she trailed off at their bewildered stares. She sighed and said, "It was a thing, you had to be there. Anyway, I've never purposely sung…so don't be too mean, okay? This song is dedicated to someone very special to me but he's just too stubborn to realize just how much he does mean to me. Of course, part of that's my fault what with my hot/cold routine. Evidently I have this thing where I get his motor revving and crown myself the Ice Queen." More incredulous stares. "The point is that I plan to change all that right now, with a little help from Mr. Presley." 

Buffy nodded to the band and inhaled deeply as the first note from the guitar crackled through the air. Dozens of eyes were trained on her but her gaze was fixated on the azure jewels that sparkled in the low light. He was the only one that mattered and she was going to show him just how much he did. 

__

Wise men say

Only fools rush in

And I can't help

Falling in love with you…

The look on Spike's face was something she would never forget. Although she hadn't imagined telling him in such a venue, she knew this declaration in front of everyone (even if they were demons) would get through to him that she did love him. 

__

Shall I stay? 

Would it be a sin? 

If I can't help 

Falling in love with you…

She had been so close to telling him that night they had spent together, Spike's arms wrapped protectively around her. She had never felt such security her entire life and when the day had come, she wanted nothing more than to remain in his arms. But she had to leave and when he confronted her about it, she had given him the typical Buffy denial response.

Buffy was terrified that she had been too late, that kissing Angel was the last straw and Spike would cast her off. At one time she would never have doubted that he would accept her but now…

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be 

The first wave of panic hit her at the thought of losing Spike forever. Tears pooled in her eyes as her mind conjured the image that could possibly be their final goodbye. His eyes sad but resolved, not giving into her pleading wails…No, she couldn't lose him, not after…not after everything. 

Take my hand 

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

There it was. Buffy laid everything on the line. She finally knew what she wanted and hoped that Spike still wanted her. He was her anchor; her fortress of solitude, protecting her from the inundation of pain and loss that pervaded her existence. He had no idea how important he was to her, how he had indeed saved her in so many ways. It was high time he understood. 

Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling so it goes

Some things are meant to be

Take my hand 

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help

Falling in love with you

For I can't help

Falling in love with you…

After the last words left her mouth, Buffy lowered her eyes from Spike's face for the first time since she was on stage. She looked up when the crowd exploded into cheers. Buffy's cheeks flushed at the ovation and she chanced a look at Spike. 

He wasn't there. 

Buffy's face crashed to the floor and the resounding collapse in the distance was her heart splintering. Everyone else was oblivious to her breaking spirit and Buffy tried her best to cater to their applause, plastering a false smile in place before gracing the crowd with a curtsy. The demons howled at that but the slayer tuned it out. All she wanted to do was get off stage and go back to the Hyperion where she could hide in her room until it was time for her to leave. 

"May I?" The suave voice startled Buffy out of her misery and she looked down to see an awestruck Spike smirking at her. Buffy opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Spike offered his hand to her and she accepted. He guided her to the floor and intertwined his fingers with hers. 

"You all right, luv?" Spike's finger caressed Buffy's cheek and she blinked for the first time since he helped her off stage. "Buffy?" 

"You were gone." Her voice was the barest of whispers and she would have lowered her head if his hand didn't prop her chin up. "When I finished, you were gone. I thought--I thought you left me…" 

Spike gave Buffy a rare smile devoid of snarkiness and her heart fluttered. She stared into his too blue eyes and felt herself floating away, desperate to get lost in him. 

"You thought I left you?" She nodded, ashamed at her admission. "You honestly think I would leave after what you just did, what you just sang?" 

"But at the table-" 

"But at the table what, pet?" 

"You sounded like you didn't want me anymore." When she closed her eyes the tears she had held back for the last few minutes broke from their prison and fled down her cheeks. She didn't want to look at Spike, at the reproachful glare that he would probably give her but she refused to run away anymore. Whatever it was that was going to happen between them depended on her being able to face her fears head-on. And if she had to be reprimanded by Spike to start off, then so be it. 

When Buffy finally looked back at Spike she gasped at the sight before her. His blue eyes were flooded with tears although there was no sadness in them. Her eyebrows crashed together in confusion and Spike laughed. Now _that _was definitely not what she expected. 

"Buffy," he said, after calming down, "I'm not going anywhere." Although the smile remained, his tone and the steel gaze of his eyes communicated his determination. Buffy nodded dumbly, unsure of what to say. Her mind was filled with thoughts and the splinters that threatened to rip her chest in half were slowly mending, not quite able to believe what was happening. 

"You didn't think I wanted you, did you?" Buffy lowered her eyes in shame. "You came all the way here to look for me with the belief that I would turn you down." Buffy craned her neck to look at him, her lip set in a defiant pout at his unbelieving tone. 

"You did leave without even telling me…" 

"Because I thought…" 

"…and it's not like I blame you…" 

"…you and the Poof…" he trailed off as his mind processed what she had just said. "What do you mean by that?" 

"I wouldn't blame you for leaving." Buffy hated how her voice fell squeaked but she couldn't help it, her emotions were throwing the biggest hissy fit of all-time. "I drive everybody away, either because I'm too needy, or not needy enough. Or, in your case, just a complete bitch that runs away anytime things get serious." She pulled her hand from his and walked over to the corner. He followed without comment.

She sat down on a stool off to side, leaving just enough room for Spike to join her. His arm fell across her lower back and she leaned into his touch, resting her head on his shoulder. "I know you probably don't wanna hear it but my luck with men—romantic or otherwise—just plain sucks." 

"That's not—" Buffy interrupted him with a wilting glance and Spike relented. "Okay, so that may be true," he admitted with a depreciating grin, "but that doesn't mean that you have to go by that." 

"How can I not? I've never had an experience with a guy that didn't turn out bad. Even Xander hates me now." 

"Don't be daft, pet, the whelp could never hate you." 

"You think? Then ask me why he hasn't spoken to me in complete sentences ever since he lost…" she trailed off and her shoulders sagged. The last two weeks had made Buffy realize that she had thought of Xander and Spike in the same vein. It was something she wouldn't dare impart to either party, knowing the outrage that her little confession would produce. Still, that didn't stop her from thinking it. 

Like Willow and, of course, Spike, Xander was Buffy's rock. Over the years she had wished that he and Willow bid adieu to the Hellmouth but knew they never would. In effect, she had never thought that anything would ever come between him and her. Last year, after putting the entire Buffy/Spike/Anya incident behind them, the slayer was more confident than ever in her belief that Xander would forever be a mainstay in her life. But after what Caleb had done to him, she wasn't so sure anymore. 

"He blames me, you know." Her voice was a shell of its normal, vibrant self. "If I would have listened to you and Giles, hell, even Faith, Molly wouldn't have died and Xander wouldn't have lost his eye. It's my fault." Buffy wanted to cry but the tears refused to come. She felt Spike's arm pull her closer and she sighed in content, despite the demons of guilt that still tore at her insides. 

"Xander doesn't hate you, Buffy, and he sure as 'ell shouldn't blame you. No one said he 'ad to go stomping along with us to the cave. That was his choice, Slayer. His choice and his alone. He knows that and, if he wants to blame anyone for what 'appened, he needs to blame that sod Caleb." Logically, she knew he spoke the truth but the part of her that took responsibility for others' safety had crossed over to the side of irrational long ago. And though it wasn't all negative, the lingering effects of culpability when she couldn't save someone always wore her down a little more. 

"And as for Molly, whose to say she wouldn't 'ave died during the fight?" The hitch in his voice was unmistakable. In the short months of being around the Potentials, he had become fond of a handful of them although the way he looked at Molly, Rona and even Vi sometimes, reminded Buffy of the way he looked at Dawn when no one was watching. He had been devastated when Caleb had murdered Molly and the subsequent fury he had unleashed allowed them to escape. She had heard him crying in the basement two nights later but had been terrified to comfort him, knowing that she would have done anything at all to eliminate his grief. 

"Point is, Buffy, you can't save everyone. Doesn't mean you don't try." 

"He's right, Sweetums," Lorne said, and grabbed a stool to sit in front of them, "Chosen One or no, as much mojo as you've got Goldilocks, you can't possibly blame yourself for everything that happens." 

"Listen to the Green Machine, luv," Spike said, "he 'as more pet names for a bloke than I ever 'ad. Pretty good advice, too." 

"Make sure you practice what your praise preaches," Lorne said, and turned crimson eyes to Spike. "You're gonna have to deep six all that insecurity buried inside of you. This girl loves you, I mean really, really loves you. I'm talking about end of the world, scary forever type of love. You're number one in her heart now."

Both slayer and vampire gaped at Lorne before turning to one another. Buffy saw it in Spike's eyes; everything she had put into the song had paid off. He believed. That didn't mean there wasn't terror in his eyes. 

"Remember, children, the basis for any relationship is trust; trust and honesty. And judging from the vibes coming from the two of you, you still have a ways to go with that. But the love, let's just say if I didn't believe in soul mates before tonight, I would now." Lorne put a hand on each of their knees and he waited until he had their full attention. "You two have something special, something that no one I have ever read has had--not even you and Angel Cakes had something this strong and real, Buffy. It's gonna be scary and, at times seem impossible, but if you believe in each other even a fraction as much as I think you do, everything will be just peachy." 

Lorne stood and adjusted his suit. He tipped his head and walked away but not before throwing over his shoulder, "Take care of each other, like you always have and everything'll work out." 

The watched Lorne disappear into the crowd before turning back to each other. Hazel eyes reflected off cerulean, and Buffy gasped at the intensity of Spike's gaze. Their eyes remained locked as they rose as one from the stool. Spike took her hands in his, dragging his thumbs across the tops of her hands. Time stood still for Buffy and her body gravitated towards him. His hands released Buffy's hands and traveled up her arms before falling to the side and encircling her waist. Buffy wrapped her arms around Spike's neck, her eyes still fixated on his face; one that reminded her of a seraphim-- beautiful and deadly. And he was hers. 

No words were spoken as they swayed to a melody all their own. Their bodies were in perfect sync and moved impossibly closer. Buffy inhaled the scent that had permeated her dreams off and on since Spike first rolled into Sunnydale. Leather, blood, smoke and danger surrounded him, gave name to the original Big Bad. But there was something else that was greater than even that and it had been that way for some time but it had only been recently that Buffy had acknowledged it. Spike's love for her was greater than anything she had ever experienced and there were times when it was overwhelming to her. Even now, after declaring her love to him, there were parts of Buffy that was terrified of opening herself completely. But there these moments, moments like this, where she had no doubts, no fears--wrapped in Spike's arms like this, Buffy knew everything was going to be all right. 

"Say it." 

Buffy shook her head, clearing her mind of everything but what was in front of her. She smiled and graced his rueful lips with a kiss. "I love you," she said and wanted to melt at the smile that tinged his face. 

"Say it again," he demanded and ground his burgeoning erection into her.

"What if I just showed you instead?" The heat that burned in his eyes spread to her and the intensity of the moment nearly overwhelmed her. 

"Oh, you'll show me all right, my beautiful slayer, my wonderful minx." She shivered at the innuendo lacing the words. He nuzzled her neck, nipping at her skin with blunt teeth. A small gasp escaped her lips and Spike's chest rumbled in amused satisfaction. 

"I think it's time we were one with the vamoosing," she said, her breaths coming in gasps. 

"You don't have to ask me twice, luv," he replied and drug her through the crowd of demons. 

They ran through the streets, laughing and playing like adolescents. They ignored the glares of contempt and amused whispers that followed them into the night. There was no one else. There was no LA. It was just the two of them. Buffy and Spike. Two beings of immense power, capable of even greater love. They had once been sworn enemies, intent on killing the other. So good at what they did, it was a miracle that one hadn't gotten lucky at least once. It truly was. 

Spike pushed Buffy against a building and slammed his mouth into her, searing her flesh with his desire. She pushed him away and, giving him a lascivious grin, bounded off into the night. 

When she turned around, she saw him not too far behind, his face alit with joy; and that's when it hit her. 

This had been the plan all along, for two people on opposite ends of the spectrum to fight through the obstacles that littered their paths, only to meet in the center of that dividing line. No, this was no miracle. This was divine intervention. 

And as Spike caught her around the waist and spun her giggling form in a circle, Buffy couldn't resist saying a silent prayer of gratitude for whoever had been responsible for this. Lorne had told them to take care of each other and Buffy knew that she and Spike would do just that. Still, she was thankful that Someone else was also watching over them. For as much as she loved Spike, as much as he loved her, this wasn't going to be easy. In fact, she surmised that a relationship with Spike that didn't conclude with a dusty ending, would be the hardest thing she had ever done. 

She wouldn't have had it any other way. 

Next: **_Hound Dog _**


	3. Hound Dog

Chapter 3 

****

Hound Dog 

June 2005

Rarely one for rising from slumber prior to the chiming bells announcing noon's arrival, Spike threw the covers off, and glanced at the clock--11: 57 a.m. The other side of the bed was empty and he was not surprised that Buffy was gone. He smiled at her absence, knowing that the lack of her presence was an anomaly in and of itself. Oh, she was always up before ten, of that he held no illusions. Despite her occupation (and it was that, now, thankful to the generous six-figure stipend she received yearly--thanks to the head of the New Council, one Rupert Giles) as a slayer, one that often deemed necessary her attention well into the waking hours of dawn, she still lived in the daylight. And notwithstanding her journeys into the mornings without him, she generally found her way back to his side before his first stirrings into the realm of consciousness. 

"That's my girl," Spike said proudly, and slid his legs into the comforting cotton of his sweats. He chuckled as he thought of himself, the once William the Bloody, adorned in designer sweats and, at times, wearing gym shoes for chrissakes. His monochrome wardrobe was a thing of the past--although they found their uses during patrol--replaced with a cacophonous blend of dark blues and greens, articles of crimson and the hardest of purples. Of course, that wasn't all but he'd rather be buggered by a frothing at the mouth Fyarl demon in triple heat than admit to the other atrocities that lined his closet in wait. For what? Oh, nothing but the simple suggestion of his slayer followed by that pouty lower lip and slight glaze of those hazel eyes, begging him to put it on, just for her. 

Sod the Fyarl, he was already buggered. But of course, he didn't mind in the least. 

He sauntered barefoot through the hall, stopping at Dawn's former room. She had left last week for UCLA, taking summer classes in the hope of graduating in three years. Ambitious chit, his Niblet. He ignored the Red's former domicile as she had moved into her own place last fall with that Kennedy bird. True, they were around often but as it was he and Buffy had the house to themselves. Spike couldn't help but smile. 

He crept down the steps with vampiric stealth; his black sweats nothing more than a pile of discarded clothing in the hall. 

~~~

Thankfully Buffy had not elected to open the shades, thus alleviating the vampire from the sometimes fun, yet generally smoldering-the-flesh game of skipping between rays of light that so often entertained him. Not. 

The soft carpet (ecstasy between his toes, thank you very much) muffled his footfalls, though it was doubtful that stealth was even necessary, considering the blaring music and light voice sounding from the kitchen. Spike furrowed his brow at that. Although he'd often caught Buffy singing a tune in the shower, he'd never had the pleasure of listening to her insecure vocalizations since that night in Caritas. Oh, she had the potential yet was missing the confidence, something he wished he could impart on her in this particular venue. And while his encouraging words were often the only catalyst she required to hurl herself into a task she saw as daunting, he could never give her that final push into singing, even if it was for kicks. 

Spike peered around the corner just enough to spot Buffy at the sink; her back turned to him. Her head, wrapped in a black and white bandana, bobbed to the side, oblivious of his proximity. Oh, she was definitely distracted and armed with that knowledge he slithered from his cover and stood at the threshold in all his naked glory. What he saw and heard, warmed his heart and sent other parts of him throbbing into the stratosphere. 

Her white shorts (shorts that barely contained the luscious globes of her ass) were as transparent as the glass she was washing. Oh, she was being a bad little slayer, with her lack of undergarments. He doubted that the black tee that covered her upper body hid anything but her naked flesh as well and he licked his lips at the thought of only two pieces of material standing in the way of him and a wanton exploration of her beautiful form. Of course, when he heard the first words exit her mouth his burgeoning lust was temporarily thrown on hiatus. 

__

You aint nothin but a hound dog

Cryin' all the time

You aint nothin but a hound dog

Cryin' all the time

You ain't neva caught a rabbit 

And you ain't friend of mine. 

Her hips swayed in time with the guitar and claps wafting from the stereo and Buffy's head nodded while she washed the dishes. Spike was enraptured at this carefree image of his Love; as much as they played and teased, it wasn't often that she was this open with things. No, this was Buffy with all her shields down, something that she still had difficulty with in sharing with Spike, regardless of their love. 

__

Well, they said you was high class

Well, that was just a lie

Well, they said you was high class

Well, that was just a lie

Yeah, you ain't neva caught a rabbit 

And you ain't no friend of mine 

She raised her arms overhead, one hand holding a plate while the washcloth dangled from the other. Spike's lips curved into a smile as Buffy slid back and forth, her footies allowing her to glide across the front expanse of the sink. She was breathtaking and Spike knew he had to have her. 

__

You aint nothin but a hound dog

Cryin' all the time

You aint nothin but a hound dog

Cryin' all the time

Well, you ain't neva caught a rabbit 

And you ain't no friend of mine. 

Bare feet and a hundred years of hunting were serious advantages in sneaking up on a slayer across a tile floor. As he crept across the floor, watching Buffy dance in place, washing dishes as she went, Spike couldn't help but thank who ever was upstairs--God, the Powers, it didn't matter--for giving him this gift that graced his vision, that bathed in his presence every day. 

When the final words of the song were done and Buffy's hands were empty of anything breakable, Spike pounced. His pressed his hands against the sink, trapping her in and flattened himself against her body and his stifled a chuckle at her surprised gasp. 

"Were you singing for me, pet," he whispered in her ear, and was satisfied at that shiver that ran down her spine, leaving her skin dressed in a multitude of goose bumps.

"Spike," she said, and he frowned. Her voice wasn't nearly breathless enough, nope that would never do. He pulled his hips back and chortled against the back of her neck as she mimicked his gesture. Bending his knees, Spike lowered himself far enough for his erection to slide under the frilly ends of her shorts. 

"You like that, pet? Like what your hound dog can do to you?" he asked, and ran his tongue across the nape of his neck. 

"More like horn dog," she replied, and gasped when he swiveled his hips ever so slightly. "Love it," she choked out as she lost all semblance of her prior sarcasm. She rubbed herself against his throbbing member and said, "Want more, please." 

"Anything for you, luv." Spike kissed her neck chastely and maneuvered himself to the gates of her dripping canal. His head caressed her lips and he bit back a groan at the contact. Nothing was as heavenly yet burned with the heat of a thousand hells as Buffy. Being sheathed inside of her was something that even his talkative nature couldn't explain. And although his words often drove her over the edge (with him quick to follow), nothing could signify her meaning to him as much as his thrumming body, burning with the desire that only his eyes could match. 

His tip barely pushed through her entrance and they both sighed in anticipation at what was to come. His hand skimmed her sides and slipped underneath her tee. Fingers danced over the taut flesh of her belly, tracing the calligraphic writing of the tattoo just beneath her navel. It read _My Luv _and had been her gift to him on their one-year anniversary. Every time he touched it, an electrical charge swept across him at the meaning behind the words. It was an everyday reminder that Buffy did love him with all of her being and nothing would ever take that away. 

She arched into his still form when his hands palmed the ripened flesh of her breasts and his tip was fully ensconced within her femininity. Still, there was a lot more to go and from her desperate undulations, Buffy wanted every last bit of Spike inside her. 

"As my lady wishes," he murmured in her ear and thrust into her with all his supernatural strength. Buffy screamed, her orgasm taking them both by surprise. Spike, replied with an unintelligible grunt and his hands squeezed her breasts with an intensity that bordered on painful. 

"Guess that shows how good I am," he said, and started the rhythmic strokes of touching her in places, to depths, that no one had ever explored. 

"Don't flatter yourself," she said, breathlessly and she reached back with one hand to encourage his hips onward while the other acted as buffer between her and the edge of the sink. "You…were just lucky…oh, god, right there." Spike smirked and although she couldn't see it, he knew that Buffy sensed it there. 

"You like how I feel inside of you, Buffy?" he asked and she shuddered, she always did during sex but even more so when he used her name instead of the endless litany of pet names he usually whispered. "You like how hard I get when I think about you, how much I want to be inside of you?" She nodded, obviously not trusting herself to speak and while he loved it when she returned his words, there was just something about a speechless slayer that turned him on to no end. 

"You like when I squeeze those perfect teats of yours, like this?" Buffy gasped as he twisted her nipples between his fingers and when her inner walls clamped down with the force of a vice on his pulsing member, Spike barely had the will to hold back his demon. No, this wasn't about his pleasure; this was about hers. "I see you like that. What about when I slide my hands down your sides and grab you by the hips, like so?" One thing the past few years had seen was Buffy filling out more, something Spike had no problem with. Of course, he'd love her regardless of size but her goddess body sure as hell didn't hurt. 

"Please, Spike, harder," Buffy moaned and bent even further over the sink. Her face was only inches from the sudsy water and he watched as a bang slid from underneath her bandana and into the water. She raised up on her toes, granting Spike even deeper access to her sex and far be it for him to protest. 

All words were cast aside, replaced by grunts and groans and slapping flesh as Spike granted Buffy's wish. He pounded into her with reckless abandon; his fingernails carving crescent moons into the globes of her now bare ass (he vaguely recalled a ripping sound not twenty seconds ago). The bandana slipped from her head and her hair spilled over her face and into the sink. Spike brushed it aside in order to see the flashes of ecstasy and raw hunger that warred for dominance across her angelic features. Her lips tugged in a grimace and Spike knew that she was close to another climax. She arched her back in a way that always drove him insane with lust and he slid one hand up her spine while the other sneaked between her thighs. 

It took only a few seconds of manipulation before Buffy was screaming his name, her body spasming in ways that looked almost unhealthy. Spike smiled and continued his assault, satisfied that his slayer had come twice in less than ten minutes and as reluctant as he was to finish, he needed to fill her with his essence. 

"Do it," Buffy whispered as her body continued through the aftershocks, "please, Spike, do it." The vampire slowed his ministrations and peered at his ladylove, unsure of what she was referring to. Not until blue eyes clashed against hazel did he understand what she was demanding. 

"Buffy, you sure?" he asked, fighting his demon's desire to emerge at the willing offer. 

"Please, now," she pled and, without further provocation, his game face slid into place and he struck, burying his fangs in her neck. 

Pure ambrosia flowed into his mouth and Spike's entire body sang at the conquest. True, it wasn't the first time he had sampled this priceless gift, but it was rare for Buffy to allow him to bite her and despite his monthly ration of slayer blood (an act that had taken him more than a year for her to agree to) ingesting it from her veins heightened its potency, even if other bodily fluids weren't present. 

Buffy screamed as she crested once more and Spike knew that he wasn't far behind. He retracted his fangs and adorned his human guise once more, though his mouth continued its holy worship of her neck. As he felt the final restraints of his control snap from its tether, Spike whispered the three words that still could never translate the power of his emotions. 

"I love you," he murmured in her ear and spilled his cool seed into her womb, surprised when her body twisted and jerked to her fourth and final orgasm. 

His legs shook with the force of his orgasm and he slid bonelessly to the floor, cradling an equally mushy slayer into his lap. No words were spoken and although only one needed oxygen both fought to reclaim the breath that alluded them. They laid on the floor for several minutes, content to be in the other's arms. There was no where to be, no one to hide from and they were tempted to stay there forever but they knew they couldn't. 

Besides, they had yet to break in the bed for the day. 

"You know," Buffy said, her heartbeat starting to return to normal, "we've had to have made love thousands of times this year alone and I'm still not used to it." 

"How do you mean, luv?" Spike asked and nuzzled her wet hair. 

Buffy flipped over and straddled his waist, her face only inches from his. There was a hint of playfulness gleaming in her eyes but the seriousness of her expression overshadowed the former. 

"It's just that…sometimes I wonder how I got so lucky to have you. How I love you a little more everyday and want you to be inside me every second I'm with you, even when I'm so mad at you that I could stake you."

"And yet you take a _stake _so well, slayer." 

She shook her head and he brushed away the tuft of hair that covered one side of her face. "It's just that I love you so much, more than I thought I could ever love someone and I…" 

"Buffy," Spike whispered when her eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. I don't think I could…" 

"You'd go on," he said, "because you're strong, not because you're the slayer, but because you're Buffy Anne Summers. But it doesn't make a bit o' difference, cause I'm gonna make sure you never have to go without me."

She smiled and the radiance threatened to burn him to ashes. "Promise?" she asked. 

"Promise," he replied, and battled through the lump in his throat. 

"Good," she said, and like that the seriousness was gone, replaced by that impish grin of hers. "Cause, that whole spiel about you being inside of me? Definitely wanting that right about now." 

"Insatiable minx." 

"But you aren't complainin', are ya?" 

"Well, who am I to deny the slayer her wishes?" 

"I'm glad you agree," she said and rubbed herself against his slowly hardening manhood. "But there's a slight problem." 

"And that would be?" Before he knew what happened, Buffy was off his lap and perched on the island. He sat up in confusion and turned to face her, only to be greeted by that mischievous smirk. 

"You have to catch me first," she practically sung and leapt to the other side before disappearing into the living room. 

Spike couldn't contain his glee and his smile threatened to split his face. "Well," he said and brushed imaginary dust off his thighs, "a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." 

And he did, spending the rest of the day and evening loving the woman that was his, wholly and completely. 

Unlife couldn't possibly get any better than this. 

TBC in **_Heartbreak Hotel…_**


	4. Heartbreak Hotel

****

Chapter 4

**__**

Heartbreak Hotel

__

Well, since my baby left me,  
I found a new place to dwell.  
It's down at the end of lonely street   
at Heartbreak Hotel.

****

March 2010

Buffy heard the melancholy sound of Elvis pouring from the stereo as she descended the steps, shoulder bag in one hand. The rest of her bags were down by the door. She felt Spike's eyes on her as she reached the door and knew that if she turned around, his cerulean jewels would dig straight into her soul, pleading with her not to go. But she had to. As much as Buffy wanted to stay, she knew she couldn't and to reject Spike's unspoken pleas would only hurt her heart even more. 

"Spike," she said, but kept her eyes on the intricate carvings of the door, "you know I have to go."

"Yeah," he replied, and she flinched at his emotionless tone. _Not gonna turn around, _she thought to herself. _It's only gonna make it worse. Not gonna turn around._

And although it's always crowded,  
you still can find some room.  
Where broken hearted lovers   
do cry away their gloom.

Of course her self-control did what it usually did when she was around Spike; it told resolve-Buffy to shut her gob and presented mushy-Buffy, who violently (and quite satisfactorily, thank you very much) tossed the former in the closet that read 'do not open until all resolve has been obliterated'. That's when Buffy found herself staring into azure eyes that glossed over with unshed tears. 

He was sprawled in the recliner, shirtless and held a generous glass of Hennessey (well, that _was _what the empty bottle on the table said) in one hand, an unlit cigarette in the other. Aside from his eyes, the rest of his face was an alabaster mask of indifference and Buffy was again amazed at how a simple glance into his eyes could determine Spike's moods with the accuracy of a stake heading toward a vampire's heart. 

_Bad imagery, _she thought as she glanced at his smooth chest and the heart that poured out from under his eyelids. 

"Please, Spike," she said as her legs carried her towards the vampire, "don't make this harder than it already is." 

__

Well, the Bellhop's tears keep flowin',  
and the desk clerk's dressed in black.  
Well they been so long on lonely street   
They ain't ever gonna look back.

"I'm not," he said, and she saw right through the lie. Well, it wasn't like he was trying to cover it up, now was he? 

Buffy arched an eyebrow and rested her hands on her hips. "You're not?" He shook his head. "Well, what's with the kicked puppy look?" 

Sadness temporarily took a back seat to annoyance and despite the circumstances, Buffy had to stifle a giggle when Spike rolled his eyes. 

"Not a kicked puppy look," he muttered, taking a sip from his glass. Buffy's heart fluttered at the pout in his tone and she lowered herself into his lap. They both sighed contentedly and she snaked one arm around his shoulders while her free hand caressed his face. 

"Baby, you know I have to go. We both knew this was gonna happen sooner or later." 

He opened his mouth to object but swallowed it down. Buffy inhaled the breath that escaped his lips. It was a blend of blood, alcohol, tobacco and mints; a very _interesting _mix, no doubt, but something she had gotten used to--and in fact, craved--these past seven years. Sometimes she thought it was a twisted fascination--the way she thrummed with excitement whenever he exhaled during sleep and she could sidle up to him and sniff his breath without being scrutinized. No, it was definitely weird. Of course, she _was _the only woman she knew that even remotely had something to look forward to during that particular time of the month…and that was just another story in itself. 

She shook her head and turned her attention back to her lover. Buffy had long ago come to terms with the fact that living with a vampire, soul or no, for seven years had inexorably altered many of her tastes to the point where now she'd no doubt be some psychologist's dream patient. 

"Don't want you to go," Spike said, and Buffy pressed her cheek against his. The feel of his cool flesh against hers always tempered the flames that bubbled in her abdomen whenever she was in his proximity. 

"I know you don't, sweetie, but I have to go, you know that." Spike dropped his chin and Buffy pulled away enough to look him in his eyes as she guided his chin back up. He avoided her gaze for several moments but it was only a matter of time before emerald and sapphire entwined in a lover's embrace. All their emotions flowed through instantaneously and slayer and vampire shuddered at the depth of love they carried for one another, a depth that even in seven years together didn't allow them full comprehension of it. 

"Buffy," Spike said, and his voice was husky with lust and love, "I love you so much, God, I love you so much." His eyes remained filmy but the repressed tears in Buffy's own eyes broke free at her lover's declaration and she slammed her eyes shut, but not before her lips crashed to his in a reckless kiss. There was nothing poetic and sweet about the coupling of their lips. Teeth and tongues clashed in a brutal desperation, as if they knew that this was quite possibly their final moment together and though they wanted to make love, to fuck…whatever it took to express themselves, they knew time was not on their side. 

It surprised Buffy when Spike broke the kiss, pulling away far enough for his face to come into focus; well, not exactly since her senses were kibobbed from the kiss. But her vision wasn't so glazed for her to miss the smirk that disturbed the symmetry of his face. 

"Guess I still have the magic touch, ey, luv." Buffy shook her head, a weary smile replacing her frown. She stared into Spike's eyes and blew away the loose strands of hair that fell across her eyes. 

"You are so full of yourself." 

Spike leered at Buffy's petite figure and mentally tore her clothes free, causing Buffy to blush even before his husky voice whispered, "Correct me if I'm wrong, luv, but if memory serves, it's you that's usually full of…me." 

Buffy shivered at the memory of what they had done all day and night yesterday and her arm tightened ever so slightly, pulling her body closer to Spike. 

"Well, yeah," she said, "I mean, yeah, of course…I, uh, I mean…" 

"Buffy, luv…" 

"Yeah?" 

"You're babbling." 

"And your point?" Buffy knew she was pouting and when Spike's eyes glistened with mirth, she jutted her lip out just a smidgen more, falling into giggles when Spike caught her lower lip with blunt teeth. They wrestled for several minutes in the chair until the chime of the doorbell broke the mood. 

Spike's playful visage crumbled into a somber mask. He inhaled sharply and Buffy turned towards the door just as the handled twisted. It swung open and Willow walked through. 

"Hey guys," she said in her usual peppy tone although her body language was the exact opposite. 

"Hey, Wills." 

"Red." 

"So, Buff, are you ready?" 

"Where's Kennedy?" Buffy asked, and reluctantly dislodged herself from Spike's lap and stood up, the vampire quickly following suit. 

"She's in the car," Willow said, and picked up two of Buffy's bags, "you know how she hates good byes." She gave a mischievous glance at Spike. "Plus I still think she's embarrassed from that very naked vampire sighting she had the other day. 

"Well, the chit should've knocked," Spike said defensively, and Buffy swore that he blushed. 

"You were in the kitchen, Spike," Buffy reminded her lover, "don't really think there are doors to be knocked upon." 

"Yeah, well…" 

"Besides, Spike," Willow said, and her eyes slid along the contours of his naked torso, "you have _nothing _to be ashamed of." 

"Willow!" Buffy shouted in reproach. "Are you ogling my mate?" 

The Wicca shrugged. "I may be hitting for the other side now but I know a yummy nummy treat when I see one." Buffy's eyes widened but laughter quickly replaced her surprise when Spike dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

"My, my, Wills, I think you embarrassed him." 

"Who me? Embarrass William the Cocky?" Willow asked in mock-surprise.

"Bet you bints are havin' a jolly ole time, aren't ya?" Spike said. The growl that sounded from deep within his chest would have frightened any human and most demons but the two women only threw their head back and laughed. 

"I'll take these bags out and wait for you. Give you time to say good bye." 

"Okay, Will." 

"Red," Spike said before Willow disappeared through the door. She stuck her head back in. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take care of my girls for me." 

Willow blushed. "Don't you mean 'girl', singular?" 

Spike smiled, a genuine one bare of all swagger and bravado. "No, pet. I meant girls, as in all three of ya." Willow's already flushed cheeks burned crimson and she nodded, giving Spike a sheepish wink before retreating into the night. 

Buffy turned to the bleached blonde and wrapped her arms around his neck. Spike capitulated and enveloped her tiny waist in his arms. 

"So, Mr. Summers, since when has Kennedy been 'your girl'?" 

Spike ducked his head and shrugged. "Me an Ms. Kennedy may bicker but she's not so bad. 'Sides, she did save my arse a few years back, ya know?" 

"Which, if I remember correctly, you had to turn right back around and save her." 

"Well, yeah, but 'twas the thought that counted." She smiled and kissed him soundly on the lips before pulling away. When she did, albeit reluctantly, his face mirrored the fear and ache that moved deep within her. 

"Tell me again why you have to go away?" Spike asked, his voice a shell of its usual confidence. 

"Because, that disturbance in England requires the attention of a witch and slayer…" 

"Kennedy's a slayer, luv…" 

"And the fact that it's gonna take _two _slayers or Dawn to close down whatever it is that's trying to break free and since you pretty much shot down the idea of your Niblet travelin' all that way without you, me and Kennedy were the default choice." 

"But why can't I…?" 

"Who else besides me and Wills would you trust to protect Dawn?" 

"S'not like she needs protectin' now, luv, considerin' she's generatin' more power than Red ever has…" 

"Yet you continue to protect her." Spike had no reply and bit his lip in frustration.

"S'just that I almost lost you last week and you leavin so soon…" Buffy leaned her head against his chest, remembering just how close she had come to really dying--but she shook the thought away. 

"Spike, you and I both know that the borrowed time I was living on expired like ten years ago. That's a helluva lot of interest that's built up. And while I really don't think that I'm gonna buy the farm anytime soon, we both know there's a possibility that…that one day, one of us won't come home." 

The strength of Buffy's voice was a direct contrast of the fear that pooled in her stomach. The prospects of losing anyone--Dawn, Willow, Kennedy and especially Spike--in this had frazzled her nerves. Buffy knew that there was a fifty-fifty chance that _if _she did survive and returned home that either Spike or Dawn might not be around. And with the newfound Keyness of her little sister, Buffy was more worried about Spike than Dawn. 

When she next looked at Spike, determination was etched across his features. "Just make sure you and the birds make it back. Me and the 'Bit'll take care of each other, like we always do." 

"I know. Just--" Buffy hesitated, wanting to pour her heart out to him but not wanting to sound morbid. Deciding to change her tactics, the slayer flashed Spike a bright smile and said, "just make sure that you keep my side of the bed warm…or, as warm as you can." 

Spike returned the smile and planted the softest of kisses on her forehead. "Will do, pet." They embraced one more time, taking comfort in the supernatural strength of the other's arms. "I love you, Buffy, always 'ave, always will." 

"Love you, too, Spike," she said and pulled away slowly, "always and forever." Her hand caressed his cheek before she backed away and, never taking her eyes off of him, picked up her remaining two bags. 

"Buffy."

"Yeah?" 

"I don't remember the last time you spent sixty minutes outta my sight, how am I gonna go sixty days without you?" 

Buffy's lip quivered. He was right. They had been inseparable for so long that to be away from his presence for more than a few hours at a time disturbed her. Now they would be a world apart for sixty day--in truth, Buffy had no clue how she would handle it. But that didn't mean she didn't know what to say. 

"Just remember that I'll always return to you. Always…" She smiled sadly at her William and, before tears could fall any more, Buffy walked out the door and to the car. 

She said nothing on the way to the airport, her only thoughts of the bleached blonde vampire that would be alone in their house for two months. Although her going along with Kennedy and Willow was imperative, Buffy couldn't help but feel guilty about leaving him. If anything happened to him in her absence she didn't…

_No, not gonna think that, _she thought and focused her mind on the notes Giles had sent them. She was lost in her former watcher and surrogate father's scribble until they reached New York. She had scarcely thought about Spike--unless thinking about William counted. Surely she'd get off with that technicality. 

As they crossed the Atlantic, the pang of separation really hit the slayer and she turned towards the window, not wanting her two friends to catch her crying. She shed silent tears and prayed to God that she would return safely along with her friends and that Sunnydale would still be there and Dawn and Spike would be okay. 

It wasn't until they landed in London that the tears subsided and along with it the fear that something would happen to her mate or sister. Spike would take care of himself and Dawn. They would be fine. Spike said that he would protect Dawn and be there when she got back and Buffy knew that it was true. 

Spike always kept his promises. And Buffy was damn sure gonna keep hers. 

She hadn't disappointed Spike for quite sometime. She sure as hell wasn't about to start now. 

TBC…

****

A/N: I apologize if I was a tad duplicitous in what this chapter would entail but I just couldn't help it! So, did you guys think I was gonna do our Spuffy wrong? Hehe. Ya never know with me…But let's have some fun next chapter…

Next: **_Stuck on You…_**


	5. Stuck on You

****

Chapter 5 

**__**

Stuck on You

__

February 2011

The Bronze was packed for a Thursday night. High school and college kids lined the walls and brushed against one another on the dance floor, bumping and grinding as the music blared from the speakers with reckless mirth. Spike smiled as he inhaled the scents of inebriation and lust that wafted through the club. It was always like this; hormones and alcohol combined with loud and (more often than not) obnoxious music, was the perfect formula for getting down and dirty. At one time it was the ideal hunting ground. For decades he and Dru had stalked through clubs across the world, using their good looks and air of danger to lure unsuspecting victims out into the alleys or flats where they feasted on said victims blood and sex. And even when the chip had prevented him from biting anyone, for a time Spike had still used his charm on the fairer sex, often times taking a young co-ed against the alley wall. Even then sex could not fill the hollowness inside of him. It was a temporary fix to a bigger need. For so long he had thought it was the chip but it wasn't until he fell in love with Buffy--at least admitted it to himself--that the vampire realized that prowling the clubs had never been the same since that fateful night when he had seen Buffy, the lights reflecting off of her golden skin like some goddess of the sun. 

Just as she did now. 

Spike growled as he watched Buffy twist and gyrate to the music. He barely registered Willow, Kennedy and Dawn surrounding her, his eyes fixated on his mate. 

She wore a hunter green oriental-style dress that clung to her curves with the voracity of his hands when they made love. It came to mid-thigh and the slit up one side only furthered the arousal filtering through his bones and he watched her dip and tuck, every so often giving him a minute peek of her matching green panties underneath. Her golden tresses rested atop her head and several curly bangs drizzled down her face, and bounced as her body was possessed by the beat. It took all of Spike's willpower not to ravage her right where she stood. Instead, he downed another shot of tequila, praying that it would deaden his arousal enough to accomplish what he had planned for her. 

"She's beautiful, isn't she," said a voice next to him. Spike turned and saw Connor staring into the crowd of the four women, his face alit with appreciation. 

"Watch it, mate," Spike warned, "that's my Buffy you're…" he sputtered to a stop when he saw Connor's gaze fixated on Dawn's lithe form. Spike allowed a smile to grace his features as he contemplated the young lo…the young couple. They had meet in LA when Dawn had gone to visit Angel her sophomore year of college. They had taken to each other instantly. For the last six years, they had been on again, off again, pushed apart by circumstances or their own stubbornness. But six months ago they had finally come together for good, and now lived in a posh flat on the other side of town. Since then they had been inseparable, and Spike couldn't blame them. After their two-month separation last year, he and Buffy had become closer than he had ever thought possible. Rarely did they go a day without making love and when they did, well the day after was always filled with twice the exertion. If Connor and Dawn were the same way…

"Oy! That's my Nibblet you're gawking at, junior," Spike said. Connor turned to him and smiled that particularly annoying smile that reminded Spike of Angel but was oddly disarming. 

"You know I love Dawn," Connor said, "just like you love Buffy." 

"Yeah," the vampire admitted, "but that doesn't mean I wanna even _think _about you two and yer…you know." 

Connor smiled but sobered immediately. He picked at his fries before gathering the courage to look his 'uncle' in the eye. "Spike?" 

"Yeah, kid?" 

"I…I want to marry her, but I…I don't know how to ask." So lost in his own thoughts, Connor didn't notice the incredulous look on Spike's face. 

"She's everything I thought I'd never have, you know. She's smart, she's beautiful, funny and she can kick my ass, too." 

The last part broke Spike from his haze and he offered the young man a gentle smile. "Know what you mean, mate. And for the record, wouldn't want anyone else watchin' over my Nibblet." 

Connor ducked his head. When he glanced up at Spike, the vampire saw the uncertainty in the other man's eyes. "But…but I have a hard time telling her I love her. It's like each time I'm saying it for the first time. If I can't do that, how am I going to ask her to marry me?" 

Spike grinned conspiratorially and stood. He removed his duster and laid it across the stool. Walking over to Connor, he patted the young man on the shoulder. "Watch and learn, junior, watch and learn." And with that, Spike sauntered to the stage, finally ready to put his plans into motion. 

~~~

He watched Buffy and the others laughing as they moved in time with the music. Her head swiveled from left to right, and he knew she was searching for him. Spike smiled and fingered the tiny object in his left pocket; he had already set things up before hand and now the band was only waiting for his signal to start. Spike waited patiently for the last song to end and when it did, he stepped onto center stage, microphone in hand. 

__

'S now or never, he thought and cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him but he was only concerned with the hazel pair that stared at him in equal parts love, amusement, confusion and a twinge of 'he better not think about that' fear. The last part drew a smirk from him and Spike winked at Buffy before he addressed the crowd. 

"Evenin' folks. 'M not one for speeches so I'll get to the point. Tonight's a special night for my lady. 'S her birthday tonight, ya see, and I wanted to do somethin' special for 'er, somethin' she'd never forget. Buffy," he said and hopped off the stage, unconscious of the crowd parting for him as he walked towards her, "c'mere, luv." He saw her hesitation and chuckled at the crimson flare along her cheeks and Willow and Dawn pushed her forward. She kept her eyes down and held out her hand when she reached him. Spike took it and kissed each knuckle before making eye contact. 

"What are you doing?" she whispered fiercely. 

"Buffy, luv," he said into the mic, "we've known each other for, what, thirteen long years, together for eight of those. In that time we've hated one another, hurt one another but, most of all, loved one another. Nothin's come easy for us and I doubt it ever will. Still, not once in our relationship, the one we have now or the one we had before, have I ever doubted where I wanted to be, even if I denied myself the truth. I've told you before, in over a hundred years, I've only been sure about one thing: you. 

"You are beautiful, in mind, body and spirit. You are strength, hope and courage. You are the fire the burns within me, the personification of the passion that burns within us all. You are my 'eart and my soul. I love you more with each passin' day and I'm stuck on you…" 

The sharp, easy sounds of the guitar cut through the monologue and Spike smirked as Buffy's eyes widened in realization. His well chosen words had made her forget about anything else but the two of them and now the mischievous glint in his eyes mortified her. He knew that she would have words for him after the night was over but, at the same time, he hoped that what he had in store for her would wipe all thoughts of embarrassment from her mind. 

**__**

"You can shake an apple off an apple tree 

Shake-a, shake- sugar,  
But you'll never shake me  
Uh-uh-uh  
No-sir-ee, uh, uh  
I'm gonna stick like glue."

He pulled Buffy to him, reveling in her gasp as his erection made itself known. 

**__**

"Stick because I'm  
Stuck on you."  
  
He moved behind her, and with deft precision, unclipped her hair, watching it flow over his fingers. He inhaled that gentle scent of vanilla that wafted from her throbbing body. 

**__**

"Gonna run my fingers thru your long blonde hair  
Squeeze you tighter than a grizzly bear,"

Spike grabbed Buffy by the waist and melted against her back. He ran his hand up and down her thigh, feeling even the tiniest of responses her body his proximity invoked. 

**__**

  
"Uh-uh-uh,  
Yes-sir-ee, uh, uh  
I'm gonna stick like glue  
Stick, because I'm  
Stuck on you"

Spike was barely aware of the crowd that surrounded them. He glanced up and caught the evil smiles from Dawn and Kennedy that screamed 'blackmail for the rest of our natural lives'. He returned the smile before turning his attention back to the shivering slayer in his arms. **_  
  
"Hide in the kitchen, hide in the hall  
Ain't gonna do you no good at all  
'Cause once I catch ya and the kissin' starts  
A team o' wild horses couldn't tear us apart."_**

He ran his tongue along her jaw and Buffy turned her head, no doubt intent on a kiss but Spike twirled effortlessly to the other side, his fingers sweeping across the curve of her hips and butt in the process. He stood in front or her and finally allowed himself the pleasure of dancing for his lady. 

**__**

  
"Try to take a tiger from his daddy's side  
That's how love is gonna keep us tied  
Uh-uh-uh  
Yes-sir-ee, uh,uh  
I'm gonna stick like glue  
Stick, because I'm  
Stuck on you…"

As he repeated the last two stanzas, Spike's hips took on a life of their own, grinding in time to the music and the undulations of Buffy's petite form. Her Hands found purchase on his hips and when her hazel eyes twinkled in that way, he knew she was up to something. And when her little fingers kneaded the denim that covered his ass, well, Spike was thankful that the song was ending. 

He flung to microphone over his shoulder at the final note and claimed Buffy's lips as his own. Their hands roamed freely over one another, ignorant of the cheers and whistles that erupted for the crowd. When Buffy's hand skimmed over his left thigh, tracing the small bulge, Spike pulled away. Regardless of his need for oxygen, looking at Buffy, the way her eyes clouded over with desire or how her lips swelled after thoroughly being kissed, always took his breath away. She was more beautiful than the first day he'd seen her, even the first night they made love. She may have been thirty now but she looked no older than twenty-two. He'd bet that good genes and slayer healing were equally responsible for that. 

Spike stepped away and his eyes swept across her entire form. She was immaculate, an angel sent from Heaven, and she was his. _Time to make sure she knows just how much I love 'er. _

"I love you," he said and beamed at the warmth of her smile. 

"Love you, too," she said, and bit her lip. Her gaze traveled over the crowd surrounding them before returning to his face. 

"We've been through so much the last eight years, living 'ere in love. I know 'm not the easiest bloke to love, to share your life with, undead habits notwithstanding. Still, you've always been there by my side as my friend, my lover, and my mate…" He closed his eyes and counted to three. _Now or never, mate, _he thought and dropped to one knee. 

Buffy gasped when he dug into his pocket and pulled out the ring. When he looked up at her, he saw the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to wipe them away but he had one more thing to do first. 

"I told you once that I knew what you were with perfect clarity and that still holds true. You're a helluva woman, Buffy Anne Summers. You are the One. The one girl in all the world, the one girl for me…for all time. I've already claimed you as my mate and even if you 'aven't said it, I know you want something else." 

"Spike…" 

"Buffy," he said, shushing her with the quirk of his lips, "I want to give you that something else, not just for you but for us. I want this as much as you do." He held her hand and slipped the ring partially onto her finger. His body thrummed in anticipation and Spike knew she saw the apprehension in his eyes. Her own fear comforted him and, taking a deep breath, Spike asked the words he had known Buffy had wanted to hear for some time. 

"Buffy Summers, will you make me the luckiest man in this world and become my wife?" The atmosphere thickened as Spike awaited her response. Buffy opened her mouth several times before closing it and the nervousness that Spike felt tripled as he waited for her response. He had never thought of her saying 'no' but now…now he cursed himself for being so presumptuous…

"Of course I will," she said and Spike's doubts were incinerated by the joy written across her face. Without anymore preamble, Spike slipped the ring the rest of the way on and enveloped Buffy in his arms. He twirled her around, peppering her face with butterfly kisses and declaring words of love to her continuously. 

As their lips met in a kiss that seared his soul, Spike thanked the gods for a happiness clause-free soul because, if it wasn't he would have lost it the first day she said she loved him and everyday after that. She was everything to him and more. She was his heart and soul, and Spike knew without a doubt that no matter how long he lived, there would never be another. 

Spike smiled as he watched her bounce up and down, showing the others the ring. He barely acknowledged Dawn's arms wrap around him in a tight hug. All his thoughts were on Buffy and the pure joy that enveloped every part of her, joy that he had been responsible for. And for the first time Spike promised himself that when the time came for her to…to leave this place, he would not follow behind her. There was so much to do in this world, so many people that needed help that Spike would not betray Buffy's memory and spirit without first giving his all where ever he was needed. If anything, he owed her that much. 

The flying body of a slayer jarred Spike from his thoughts and he wrapped his arms around an ecstatic Buffy. 

"I love you so much," she said, and he felt her tears caress his skin. 

"Love you, too, pet," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "always and forever." 

"Yours forever," she whispered as their bodies moved in rhythm to the music, "remember that." 

"I will, luv," he said, "I will." And they spoke no more, content with the closeness they now shared dancing. 

Spike knew he had a long road ahead of him; redemption for his past was far away yet it was attainable. Whether it took another hundred years or a thousand, it didn't matter; he would reach it just to be with her for eternity. And on the off chance he was found wanting, well, he would just have to savor moments like this, moments when Buffy's mere presence offered him a glimpse of what Heaven had in store for them. 

Next…Buffy singing **_Don't Be Cruel_**??!?!

__


	6. Crying in the Chapel

****

Chapter 6

__

Crying in the Chapel

****

A/N: Yeah, I wasn't gonna write a chapter dealing with the wedding until I thought (and some people told me) that it was too big not to at least mention. And besides, after 'Chosen', **sniff sniff**, we need some tender loving. 

September 2012

You saw me crying in the chapel

The tears I shed were tears of joy

She found him in one of the adjoining rooms, sitting on a bench, staring up at the life-sized cross that hung from the ceiling. Spike's head was tilted to the side in that way that was all his own and Buffy smiled. In a few short hours (not even that, to be honest) this man before her would be her husband. Yes, he was already her mate but he had been right on the night he'd proposed to her; Buffy had wanted more, something that screamed to the world that they were joined in the eyes of God, but she had always been to afraid to bring it up. Besides, although she had wanted it so much, it wouldn't have been the same if Spike didn't want it just as much. 

__

I know the meaning of contentment

Now I'm happy with the Lord

"Thought it was bad luck to see each other before the ceremony, luv," he said, his thick, rich voice drifting over his shoulder and to her. 

"Well, technically, it's bad luck to see the bride, so that's why you're gonna keep your beautiful blues facing forward; do not pass go, do not look back," she said and sat down directly behind him. 

"That's not fair." 

"Who said it had to be?" she replied and slipped her manicured fingers through his tousled hair. 

"Stuck up bint," he whispered fiercely and Buffy responded by slapping him in the back of the head. "Oy, watch it, now." 

"That's what you get for talkin' 'bout your wifey-to-be like that." Spike sighed, and when he offered his hand to her, she took it. He kissed the knuckles of her hand before pulling it to his breast. Buffy had no choice but to scoot forward and she draped her other arm across his neck. "What are you thinking about?" she asked. 

"Nothin'. Ev'rythin'. Don't really know." 

"Is somebody nervous?" she teased, grating her chin into his shoulder. 

"Not so much nervous, luv, as terrified." 

Just a plain and simple chapel

Where humble people go to pray

All teasing ceased and Buffy's free hand cupped Spike's face, pulling it towards her but he pulled away. "Bad luck, luv, 's what you said." He tried to sound jovial but she ignored it. Pulling him closer, Buffy kissed him on the cheek and fixed her eyes on the back of his head. 

"Why?" 

"Buffy, luv, we've been together as mates for nearly ten bloody years. Been through it all, we have. And as much as I try to believe things won't change when we say our 'I do's', I know 's not true." 

"You don't wanna get married," Buffy whispered and tried to pull her hand away. Spike held on, and stroked her delicate flesh. 

"Heavens no, Buffy, I do wanna marry you, luv. More 'an anything." 

"But you said…" 

"I said that I know things'll change for good 'n for bad. And while I 'ave the distinct notion that the good stuff'll take the cake, I'm just terrified that…" He shook his head and Buffy knew that as the sign that he was withdrawing from the still sometimes overwhelming emotions of his soul. 

"Spike," she murmured, and caressed his chest with her free hand, "please." 

~~~

I pray the lord that I grow stronger

As I live from day to day

Her plea was a whispered prayer from On High, and Spike knew he was powerless to refuse it. For a year and a half he had been waiting for this day, to be able to claim Buffy as his wife, in law and in the eyes of God. _Eyes of God,_ he thought and laughed humorlessly. Spike had always believed in God, it had been something his mother had instilled in him during the days in London. So, yeah, he had been a God-fearing man (along with fearing everything else, as well) but it had changed after Drusilla had turned him. True, he still believed in God but everything that he was hated the bugger. It was similar to how he looked at slayers; they were, after all, mortal enemies. He respected them both, true, but his demon wanted nothing more than to reject everything that represented the Lord. And Spike had thought that he would feel that way for the rest of his natural existence for, after all, wasn't like his ticket would ever be stamped with the Seal of Approval for admittance through the Pearly Gates. 

But, as a hundred plus years had shown him, things changed. And over the last decade, Spike had come to respect God even more and hate him less and less everyday. True, he didn't know what that meant, not yet, but it was at least a start for something new, something better. 

__

I've searched and I've searched 

But I couldn't find

No way on earth to gain peace of mind

"I'm terrified, Buffy. Terrified that I'm gonna bugger this up. Terrified that in two years, or five, or, bloody 'ell, fifteen, that you an' me 'll be on the outs. And it'll be my fault." 

"Spike…" 

"No, luv, you don't understand. I've lived ten years with this soddin' soul but that doesn't change what I am. Don't get me wrong, I'd never in a thousand years want this thing gone but that doesn't matter. We've played house for ten years, luv, ten years of you bein' my mate and it's been bloody great. But Buffy, living as your 'usband is somethin' totally different."

"Why does it have to be?" 

"Because, that's jus' the way things are." They were silent for several minutes and when Spike picked up the scent of salty liquid, his soul shivered inside of him. "Buffy, luv, don't cry. I didn't mean anythin' by it…" 

"Yes you did, Spike," she said and he was surprised at the calmness in her voice. "I just can't believe I didn't see it sooner." 

"See what, pet?" 

Buffy said nothing at first, and hugged him tightly. Her tears were warm against his skin when she rubbed her face against his neck. Spike leaned back into her arms, allowing her hands to roam over the planes of his body. 

"You're right, Spike, things do change. People change. But it's a natural thing; the older you get, the smarter you get--in theory, of course. You take less chances, counting more on experience than hope and desire to see you through things. And the playfulness of lovers after a certain age? Major no-no. And you know what? I say bollocks to that! 

"Spike, you think that being my husband necessitates you to change your behavior, become something you're not. That's not true." 

"But…" 

"No, let me finish. We've known each other fifteen years and, yeah, we've both changed since then. Hell, we've changed since the last time we made love." 

"True," he said, " 'm much more hornier since then." 

"Pig," she said, and nibbled his ear before turning back to the topic at hand. "The point is, baby, is that change is a natural thing, you can't force it. Hell, you shouldn't want to force it, cause if you do, you're only making it harder on yourself." 

"But I wanna be the best I can for you, luv. I wanna be the 'usband you'll be proud of, the 'usband you deserve." 

__

Now I m happy in the chapel 

Where people are of one accord

"Spike," Buffy said and kissed him on the cheek, "I've been proud of you for the last twelve years. And what I deserve is a husband that will love and cherish me through all the b.s. that I give him, will make love to me throughout the night and will protect me and those I hold dear. That's you, Spike, just as you are. I don't want you to try and fit yourself into some cardboard cutout of what you think I want a husband to be. I want you to be just as you are now; a good man that would die for me and will love me for the rest of his lifetime." 

__

Yes, we gather in the chapel 

Just to sing and praise the Lord 

The vampire smiled as the tears burned tracks down his face. For the last year he had kept the fears of failing Buffy as her husband to himself, vowing every night to change what he needed to change once that band was slipped over her finger. To hear Buffy tell him this was a weight lifted from his soul. She loved him just as he was and while a part of him knew that, other parts of him still held insecurities that he doubted would ever totally dissipate. But that was all right, as long as she was here, in his arms. 

"Mom would be proud of you, too," she said, and kissed him on the back of his head. She removed her arms from his neck and stood. "Even though she never told me, sometimes when I caught her looking at us bickering, I think she knew." 

__

You'll search and you'll search

But you'll never find 

No way on earth to gain peace of mind

"Knew what?" Spike called to her retreating voice. 

She didn't answer for sometime and were it not for his heightened senses, he would have thought she'd already left. He waited, listening to the strength her heartbeat, drowning in the scent of her love until she finally spoke. 

"That you were the One for me. Always have been, and always will be." He listened to her heels click against the floor and the slight whine of the door as she squeezed through it. 

"I love you," she called back to him before shutting the door. 

Spike smiled at the cross that stared at him, lost in the enormity of God, Buffy and this day. She had been right; things changed all the time, sometimes for good, other times for bad. You didn't always know which until it was upon you, but, more importantly, trying to change because that's what you thought someone wanted was, well, not good. The fact that getting the soul was for Buffy was one of those things that coincidentally worked out. Learning to live with it, however, was something he had done for himself and that was the most important thing. 

__

Take your troubles to the chapel

Get down on your knees and pray

Standing, Spike walked over to the cross and kneeled. His demon shied away from the power that radiated from the object but his soul; his soul rejoiced at the warmth that bathed him. And just like his love for Buffy, Spike knew that his soul, that the love it felt, the love it received, would always be there. 

__

Then your burdens will be lighter

And you'll surely find the way.

"Always and forever," he said, and planted a quick kiss on the cross, "always and forever." 

__

TBC…**_Don't Be Cruel_**


	7. Don't Be Cruel

Chapter 7

**__**

Don't Be Cruel

__

May 2019

"And then he left," Buffy shouted as she paced from one end of the living room to the other. "God, he is so like a six year-old; get mad, yell and then stomp out the house. Who the hell does he think he is?" 

"Your husband?" Willow offered from her position on the couch. Buffy growled and stared through the redhead. "Okay, not a great time for humor, huh?" 

"Ya think?" Buffy spat, and walked over to the couch. Sighing heavily, she plopped down next to her best friend. "What am I gonna do with him, Wills? He just won't listen to me."

"I bet he'd say the same thing," Willow mumbled. 

"What did you say?" 

"Oh, nothing, just that you need to talk to him."

"Already tried, failed miserably." 

Willow frowned. "Did you actually talk to him or did you do the yelling and the pouting and the threatening?" Buffy turned away. "Uh huh, I see." 

"Well," the slayer whined, "it's not like he understands diplomacy."

"And it's not like you really try it," Willow replied. 

Buffy opened her mouth to object then shut it. "You're right, Wills, I really don't. It's just that he makes me so mad sometimes…" 

"I bet the feeling's mutual." 

Buffy ignored Willow's jab. "I mean, we really don't argue like this much anymore. Usually it's just bickering about this and that, we get in a mood and the other apologizes, and voila, several hours of make-up sex." 

"So did not want to hear that." 

Buffy snorted and folded one leg under her. "Like you and Ken don't do tha' wild thang when you're in a tiff."

Willow blushed and Buffy chuckled. Even after all this time, the red head was the easiest person in the world to make blush. "This is so not about me, Buffy Anne Summers." 

"Whoa, Wills, my full name? What next, you gonna ground me?" 

"I have a right mind to do that," she said, and waggled a finger in front of Buffy's nose, "if you don't start listening a bit more." 

"I know," a sobered Buffy said, "but it's just that these past seven years, really not used to the knock down-drag out screaming and shouting matches with him. Ever since we've been married, things have been even smoother than before…" Buffy trailed off and thought back to that night in the Bronze when he proposed. "You know, I think Spike was right that night in the Bronze; that I wanted to be married so bad but didn't know it." 

"Do you think any of you guys' tiffs before that had anything to do with some resentment on your part? That Spike didn't think enough to propose?" 

"Well, Buffy would say no, but psychoanalytical Buffy…" 

"But it's not like you guys fought _too _much even then." 

"But there were more of these types, though; the ones that after he walks away, or I do, had my heart in pieces. And now…" Buffy sighed. 

"And now, the whole slayage thing." 

"I've been doing this twenty years, Wills, can't he understand that?"

Willow took her friend's hand. "He does, Buffy, I know he does. But can't you see his point, too?"

"It was nothing, really," the slayer replied, and lowered her eyes. 

"Buffy, you could've been _killed," _Willow said, a little more harshly than she intended. 

"That's a possibility every night." 

"Which is exactly his point." 

"He just can't expect me to--to give it up like that." 

"Can't he?" Buffy frowned and Willow brushed a strand of hair out of Buffy's face. "Buffy, I don't want to hurt your feelings, but you're not needed anymore." 

"Thanks, Will," she replied, unable to conceal the hurt that bubbled inside. 

"Buffy, I didn't mean it like that." 

"Whatever," the slayer said, and stood. She walked through the living room and kitchen, her bare feet slapping against the floor. With a disgusted snort, she wrenched the back door open and stepped outside, not bothering to close it. 

The slayer stared out into the night, taking in the starry sky, one she had become intimately familiar with in the past twenty years. Though light was her saving grace, she could never avoid the call of the darkness; the rich silence that permeated the air--the silence of the sleeping and dead. It was difficult for her to recall a time without it, and it had been as much a part of her as was the simple mechanics of breathing. And just as death would visit her if air was taken away, Buffy was sure that to give up this, to give up the night, would kill her slowly. 

When Willow's hands touched her shoulders, Buffy shook off the desire to flinch. The Wicca massaged her muscles and in seconds Buffy's anger had abated, leaving in its wake the mind-numbing fear that influenced her entire being. 

"I'm scared, Wills, I'm so scared." 

"Of what?" 

"That if I…if I give up slaying, that I will be nobody." 

"Buffy…" 

The blonde stepped away and faced her friend, tears of uncertainty clouding Buffy's vision. "No, Willow, I'm not crazy. I've been the slayer for twenty years, protecting the streets, protecting the world. It's been that way the entire time you and Xander and Giles have known me." She lowered her eyes and whispered, "it's the only me that Spike knows." Risking a glance at her friend, Buffy was surprised at the pitiless compassion that was reflected in the red head's green eyes, immediately followed by one wicked looking resolve face. 

"Buffy," Willow said and cupped the former's cheek. "I love you. I love you with everything I am. You have done so much for all of us, and I'd follow you anywhere. But, gotta tell ya, you're a doofus." 

Buffy blinked several times. "Did you just call me a doofus?"

Willow shook her head. "Buffy, being a slayer doesn't make you popular or likable. It doesn't make you kind, or sympathetic or lovable. In fact, being a slayer is the antithesis of all that. Buffy, you work death every night with your hands, yet those are the same hands that nurture your relationship with Spike and our twenty years as friends. 

"You are witty, loyal, caring, forgiving, brave and strong in every sense of the word. Those are the reasons why we love you, why Spike loves you. Not because you can throw a Fyarl demon twenty feet or lay the smack down on a skank ho of a hell god. What you are and who you are; they're two different things. And as much as we respect and are endeared--and grateful, let me tell ya--to that part of you that is the slayer, we love and adore, and would die for you; Buffy." 

Overcome with emotion, the slayer could only pull her friend into a warm embrace. They stood on the porch in silence, taking comfort in the arms of one another for several minutes before Buffy finally pushed Willow away. 

"But Spike…he likes it that I'm strong. That I can…" 

"What? Kick his skinny, yet delicious undead ass up and down the block?" 

"Hey, that's my husband you're mentally ogling." 

"Buffy, sweetie, Spike's just like us." 

"Wow," Buffy replied, "never thought I'd hear any of you guys admit that."

"You know what I mean, miss smarty-pants. He loves you like we do. Sure, he's got a thing for that slayer mojo that you have, but it's the Buffy part of you that dropped him on his head and made him fall in love with you."

"Yeah, I know. But what about…" 

"What about what, Buffy? There are dozens of slayers out there now, you know that. Ever since that little releasing of the essence thingamabob the New Council did a few years ago. You're not the only one, anymore, Buffy."

"But it's my fight." 

"It's _their _fight, now. Kennedy knows that, that's why she gave it up last year. It's just not worth it." 

"But how can I just turn my back and let someone else die in my place." 

"Buffy, you know that each slayer now has the choice of what they want. The ones on active duty know the risks and accept it. They weren't just arbitrarily thrown into the fire. Besides, you have a new fight now." 

"What's that?" 

Willow brushed her knuckles across Buffy's cheek and offered the slayer a warm smile. "To make sure that your mate and husband is happy and not worrying about you every second." 

"It's not like I'm an invalid," Buffy said, pouting. 

"And you're not exactly in those golden years of slaying, either. Buffy, you're thirty-eight, and, yeah, you may look like you're twenty-five, and hell, you probably would kick the tar outta every other slayer out there but honey, regardless of age reprieve, you're still thirty-eight. Slayer or no, reflexes do slow. And to trump out there every night like you've been doing…" Willow lowered her eyes and shook her head. When the Wicca raised her head, Buffy was stunned at the fire in Willow's eyes. 

"Buffy, you have a duty, not as a slayer but as wife and friend. You can't understand how hard it was…that summer. The only thing that worse for me was when Tara…Buffy, you didn't see what we went through. Me, Tara, Giles, Anya, Xander, Dawn...Spike. It was so hard, Buffy. Especially for Spike."

Buffy nodded, not trusting her voice. Several years ago, Spike had finally come clean about what it had felt like to lose her and despite second-hand sources recounting his difficulty in dealing, nothing had prepared Buffy for the heartbreaking tale from Spike's own point of view. After his tears had run out that night, she had been the one to cry and fall into his arms to be consoled. 

"If it wasn't for Dawnie, I don't think he would have made it. But he did. And as much support as Spike has in us, Buffy, he wouldn't survive you dying like that again." 

"But I'm gonna die, Wills. He knows that." 

"Yeah, but it's one thing for you to live your life out with him and go naturally. That'll be hard enough for him, but to have you ripped from him slaying? Again? Buffy, you know and I know that he'd blame himself and would never recover." 

"Thanks, Wills," Buffy said, and wiped her eyes, "not too much pressure there." 

Willow smiled. "What can I say? Love putting you on the spot." Her smile disappeared and her face took on a serious expression. "Listen to him, Buffy, he deserves that much. You're married, and marriage is about compromise. Please, for his sake and yours, try to see where he's coming from." 

Willow stayed for another hour and though they talked of happier things, Buffy's mind was fixated on the earlier conversation. Willow was right, Buffy was not a spry twenty-year-old anymore and despite the fantastic shape she was in, she was still a thirty-something slayer. Going out patrolling each night, regardless of Spike with her or not, was foolish. She had realized that much a few years ago but her fear had overwhelmed her common sense. That wouldn't happen again. Willow said that marriage was about compromise. She missed one other thing though, Buffy thought. Couples also told each other of what they feared and Buffy had yet to do that about her own apprehensions. 

"That's gonna change," she said as she watched Willow pull of. She would confess her dread to Spike whenever he decided to return. Of course, that particular would have to wait until she did some major apologizing. 

~~~

"Home, Sweet, Home," Spike whispered to the empty room. Locking the door, he silently traversed the darkness, looking for some signs of his wife. His search took him from the dining room to the kitchen and then the living room, ending at the bottom of the steps where he had started his journey. 

"Guess she's sleep," he said, and stared up at the imposing flight of steps before him. His hand rested on the banister and Spike ran through every conceivable scenario he could on seeing her again. His undead heart threatened to spill from his breast and he wanted nothing more than to shower Buffy with kisses and declarations of how deep his love ran for her. Oh, he was still brassed off at her stubbornness, but that would always run second to the overwhelming desire he had to soothe her fears away. 

"Here goes nothing," Spike said, and taking a deep breath, he started his sojourn up the stairs. Each step sounded like Krakatoa, exploding through the house and into his ears. _Of course it would, _he thought. _Can't be stealthy for the undeath of me when I want. _And he so wanted to just get in bed and pull his sleeping wife close to him. They still needed to have it out and all, but that could wait till the morrow. 

When Spike reached the door to their room, he sighed in relief when he saw it closed. More often than not, that meant that his girl was burrowed in under the covers, pillow and Gordo held tight as the melodic sigh that escaped her lips denoted a slumbering slayer. As he turned the knob, he noticed the flickering light that flashed underneath the door. Opening the door, Spike gaped in surprise at the sight that greeted him. 

The room was bathed in candlelight. Dozens of candles, all shapes and sizes, filled the room. He picked out the individual scents of jasmine, raspberry, and violets. But the most powerful aroma was that of vanilla. Vanilla and Buffy. And just like her fragrance overpowered every other smell, the sight of her sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, clad in only a white silk robe, burned the vampire from the inside out. Her long golden tresses tumbled across her shoulders like some heavenly waterfall, and her hazel eyes shone with a love that humbled Spike. Her beauty, even after all these years, was still flawless and Spike swallowed as his eyes drunk in her partially concealed form. 

"Hey," she said, and he shivered at the sound of her voice. 

"Hey, luv," Spike replied woodenly. Shaking the multitude of thoughts that clamored inside his head away, Spike began to undress, never taking his eyes off her. So many times he had done this, loving how his naked form always sent a chill through her that he could discern from afar. But now, as his jeans crumpled into a heap at his ankles, Spike noticed that Buffy had yet to break eye contact. Stepping out of his jeans, the vampire stalked over to the bed, watching Buffy slide under the covers as he did so. He kneeled on the bed, unsure of where to go from there. 

"Lay with me," Buffy said, and patted the empty space beside her. Spike obeyed, and slid underneath the crimson satin sheets. Once he was firmly ensconced, Buffy wriggled out of her robe and tossed it to the floor. They lay there, face to face and not touching for several minutes. The look on Buffy's face told him that she had something to say and Spike was patient enough to wait her out. Of course, the last thing he expected was her tentative whispers of: 

_"You know I can be found, sittin' home all alone. If you can't come around, at least please telephone…_

"Don't be cruel, to a heart's that true.

"Baby, if I made you mad, with somethin' I might have said, Please just forget my past, the future looks bright instead…

"Don't stop thinking of me, don't make me feel this way. Come over here to love me…" She hesitated and her gaze dropped to the hollow of his throat and when she glanced back into his eyes, Spike was rocked by the insecurity that he saw. 

__

"You know what I want you to say," she finished, and when Spike saw the first hint of tears, he bit his lip but not before declaring his love for her. 

"Do you? Love me, I mean." 

"Of course I do, luv," he said, and instinctively pulled her into his arms. "You're ev'rythin' to me, Buffy, you know that." 

"I know you love me, but do you love _me?" _

Spike frowned. "Not quite sure I followed you 'round that last bend, pet." 

Buffy burrowed into his embrace and graced his chest with the softest of kisses. She took a deep breath and pulled away enough to look him in the eye. "Do you love all of me? Please, Spike, just answer me." 

"Of course I do, Buffy…" 

"Are there parts of me you love more?" 

He opened his mouth to protest vehemently when it clicked. Never in their seven years of marriage had Buffy ever questioned Spike's love or her ability to be loved--that particular crown of thorns had been set aside many years ago and for her to bring it out now…

"You think if you stop slayin' I won't love you as much anymore." It wasn't a question and her silence was answer enough. "Buffy," Spike said, and cupped her cheek. "I want you to listen and listen good; I don't wanna have to say this again:

"I love you, Buffy Anne Summers, every part of you. I love your hair; I love your stubbornness. I love your laugh. I love your body and the way you move, in clothes and out. I love how your skin shines in the light, how your smile could brightened the darkest of voids. I love that little wheeze you make right before you fall into deep sleep mode three. I love how you wriggle your bottom against me when you have a particularly naughty dream. I love how you sigh when I enter you. I love how you play with your hair when you're nervous and excited. I love how you look when you first wake up. I…" Spike stopped and kissed her on the forehead. "I could go on forever, you know. Hey, don't do that." 

Spike's confession had brought forth the silent tears. When Spike folded her back into his arms, Buffy let out a strangled sob before her body heaved and she cried in earnest. 

The vampire said nothing as he held his slayer close, rubbing her back and humming in her ear. Thankfully, the breakdown didn't last long and when she finally looked back up at him, Spike saw the insecurity fade, supplanted by resignation. 

__

"I'll do it," she whispered, "I'll give up slaying." 

"Why?" The question was out before he could stop it. 

Buffy shrugged. "I…I know how hard it was for you before. And I will do anything to prevent you from feeling that pain again. Even if I have to give up everything I am." 

"Buffy, look at me," Spike commanded, and she complied. "I don't want you to stop slayin…" 

"You don't?" 

"Well, yeah, actually I do, but I wasn't asking that today." 

"But I thought you said…" 

It was Spike's turn to shrug. "Heat o' tha' moment sort of thing. Asked for something I don't have the right to ask for." 

"Bollocks," she said and flushed at the amused look he gave her. "I mean that you're my husband and mate, you have a right to ask your wife not to get herself dead by doing something as silly as slaying. We both know that." 

"And we both know that I never want to strong arm you into somethin'." 

"But…"

"Listen, pet, I don't like you patrollin', that much you know, but I can deal. What I can deal with is you gallavantin' around each and ev'ry night like you've been doin'." 

"So, you're okay with the slaying?" 

"Not okay, but it's part of you. And, before you ask, yes, when you stop patrollin' I will love you just as much. Buffy, there is no part of you that I do not love, no part of you I do not crave every second of every day. You're in my mind, body and soul, Summers. You're in my soddin' blood, I'll never get rid of you and I don't want to." 

"So," she said, and smiled shyly, "are you still drowning in me?" 

"Buffy, I've drowned and been resurrected by your love a thousand times a day." Her lips on his were soft velvet, a sampling of what it was to taste heaven, and he wanted more but she pulled away. 

"I love you so much, Spike. So much." 

"Love you, too, Buffy, ev'ry part of you." 

"Show me," she said, and they were instantly lost in the feel of the other. And as he entered her, Spike told Buffy again how much he loved her, giving her a different answer for each stroke. 

When she sighed and her muscles clamped down on his swelling erection, Spike couldn't help but think of how right his world was. He had Buffy in his life, in his bed, in his heart and soul and he knew that it would always be this way. Nothing in the world could break them apart. 

He would see to that. 

__

TBC in **Suspicious Minds…**


	8. Suspicious Minds

Chapter 8

__

Suspicious Minds

__

September 2024

****

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" 

Spike stepped back from the volcano that was his wife. He held his hands up in surrender but saw that it had no effect on the fire that poured from her eyes. 

"Luv, I know how it sounds, how you must feel but…" 

**__**

We're caught in a trap

I can't walk out

Because I love you too much, baby

The smack that interrupted him took them both by surprise, but it did nothing to slow her momentum. She stalked forward, her breath coming in razor puffs and despite the demon's reluctance to retreat, Spike knew that this wasn't exactly the time to show his stones. 

"You know how I must feel?" She asked before repeating it, incredulous at the sentiment. "If you knew how I would feel, you sure as hell wouldn't have done this without talking to me. Do you have any clue what it feels like to watch your _husband and mate _coddling that crazy bitch?" She spat and pointed towards the living room. 

**__**

Why can't you see

What you're doing to me

When you don't believe a word I m saying 

Spike scowled as memories reminded him of a time when he had seen something quite similar. "Oh," he said, "a bit like watchin' you and your ex-honey snoggin' after that whole 'I was there' diddy you said to me in the kitchen." 

He also remembered the night that had preceded her emboldened approach in the kitchen; the first night Buffy had ever allowed him to hold her. He had told her that he'd never been classified as a thinker and, as he watched her face ignite with a fury he'd never before seen, Spike had to admit that twenty years had done nothing to remedy that particular character flaw. 

"Did you just compare what happened between you and that…" she yelled before taking a deep breath and speaking with a calmness that frightened him even more than her anger. "Are you comparing what I walked in on with what happened between me and Angel twenty years ago?" 

Spike swore. There was no right answer to that and he knew he'd painted himself in the proverbial bloody corner. And the 'bloody' part--well, if he kept it up, there would be nothing figurative about it at all. 

"Buffy, luv, I didn't mean…" 

"Don't you dare 'luv' me," she said and the first hint of tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. "First off, it was twenty years ago Spike, twenty years!" 

"I know, I'm so--" 

"Secondly, we weren't even _together _then. So, yeah, I screwed up with the Angel kiss, but I wasn't committed to you, Spike, I wasn't _married _to you. And my memory may be faulty but I do believe that Angel and I were fully clothed, which is a lot more than I can say for you and your dark goddess." 

__ ****

We can't go on together

With suspicious minds

"We weren't--" Spike sighed heavily, knowing that yelling wouldn't get him anywhere. "Look, Buffy, we weren't doing anything." 

"So that's why you were all shirtless avenger and she was down to her--what do you call it--skivvies?" 

Forty-love, Buffy's serve. She did have a point but Spike couldn't let her know that in so many words. All he could do was explain, or try, what was going on. 

"It was the only way she would quiet down, pet, the only way I could stop her from hurtin' herself more than she already was." 

Buffy arched an eyebrow. "If she wants to get hurt, I can help her with that; easy as one, two, stake." 

"You can't, Buffy. I already told you she has a soul." 

"And? How many humans have souls yet murder and rape? If I've learned one thing these last twenty-something years is that a soul doesn't mean shit if the person with it doesn't give a damn or is part of the psycho network. And Drusilla definitely falls under heading number two." 

"Buffy," Spike said and risked caressing her bare shoulder. He was encouraged that she only tensed but didn't pull away. "I understand where you're comin' from, luv, I really do, but I'm all she's got." 

Buffy opened her mouth but shut it just as quickly and lowered her head. The seconds ticked by and Spike's unbeating heart felt as if it would explode from the wait. When she finally glanced up, Spike was taken aback by the resignation in her eyes. 

"What about Angel." 

"She remembers what he did to her as Angelus. That's why he brought her here. She won't go near him." Seizing the opportunity, Spike stepped forward and took her by the arms. "Can't you see, Buffy, I'm all she's got."

The look on her face chilled Spike to the bone and he took an involuntary step back. 

**__**

And we can't build our dreams 

On suspicious minds

"Get out." There was no emotion in Buffy's tone and Spike stared at her in disbelief. 

"Buffy, I…" 

"Please, Spike, just go." The first tear made its way down her cheek and he was powerless to stop the guilt that flooded his soul. "Get her some clothes from my room and go. I don't…I can't, I can't deal with this." 

"Buffy?" 

But she said nothing more. She turned away from him and slowly walked through the kitchen door. 

Spike did not follow. 

__

Six Days Later 

"Remember that girl with the frilly dress?" Drusilla asked. She was nestled between Spike's legs and he caressed her bare arms, mindful of her nails. She had tried to rake her eyes out several times and Spike had been forced to de-claw her. Despite that, his arms were littered with scratches that had drawn blood after her latest panic/tantrum. 

"Which one, Dru?" he murmured in her ear. 

"The one who wouldn't play the spike game. She didn't like to play." 

Spike cringed. He remembered too well that particular memory. The girl had been no more than nine and he and Dru had slaughtered the poor bit's family. Spike had wanted to put the girl out of her misery but Dru hadn't. 

"No, Princess, she didn't." 

Drusilla turned around and stared out through glossy eyes. "But I made her play, didn't I, Spike. I made her play and she yelled for the angels when I drove the spike into her. She yelled so loud…" Dru laughed but it didn't take long for it to fall into hysterical and guilt ridden sobs. 

**__**

So if an old friend I know,

Stops by to say hello

"Shhh, Princess, it's okay." 

"No it's not, how can it be? I hurt that poor dearie, violated her just as _he_ violated me over and over again." There was no need to expand on just who 'he' was. Angel--or Angelus--had royally fucked Dru in every conceivable way. And despite his semi-loathing towards his Sire that still prevailed, the platinum blonde couldn't help but sympathize with the guilt Angel carried over what he had turned this former servant of God into. Angel had already called four times asking if he could help. Each time Spike told him no but thanks for the concern, as late as it may be. But every time he found himself apologizing to Angel for the remark, thankful that someone was worried about the former couple. 

Unlike a certain wife that could not be found. 

**__**

Will I still see suspicion in your eyes?

Spike rested his cheek on the top of Drusilla's head, enveloping her with his strong arms. He tried not to think of Buffy at times like this, wanting to devote his entire being to the wreck of a creature before him. But not thinking of Buffy was just as impossible for Spike as not feeling; everything that he was had been entwined with the petite slayer and being separated this long from her in such a way ate at him like nothing else. 

"Go to her, my Spike," Drusilla whispered and he frowned. "Your love, my William, go to your love." 

Spike shook his head. "Dru, I can't do that. I can't leave you…" Two slender fingers silenced him before he felt her cool lips slide across his mouth. 

"Yes, you can, my righteous William. Go to her before it is ruined and the moon weeps for its heartbroken child." 

"I won't leave you, Dru," he said, "not now." 

The frail woman's rants ceased as Spike rocked her to sleep and his thoughts fell from the woman in his arms to the one in his heart. As much as he once loved Dru, nothing could compare to the love he felt for Buffy. And as Dru whimpered of their most heinous acts as she slept, Spike was kept awake by the fear that his life with Buffy was over. 

__

October 2024

"How you feelin', pet?" he asked the naked form underneath the covers. 

The thin woman shrugged and brushed her raven hair from her face. "Like a sun exploded behind my eyes." 

"Well, that's better than a few weeks ago," he said amusedly, "back then it was all, holy water down your throat and garlic in your ears." 

Dru laughed and Spike smiled. It was the first time in all their years together that she had ever exhibited such genuineness. Her mirth was usually tinted with a great deal of madness, but this--if Spike wasn't staring into those haunted pools that were her eyes, he would have sworn she was whole again. 

"It hurts, Spike," she said, dropping any hints of her previous levity. "It hurts so bad." 

Spike pulled her to his chest and her cool skin bled through the cotton of his shirt. "I know, baby, I know it hurts. But it'll keep getting better, I promise you." 

"But it won't, William," she said and looked at him with sad eyes, "not for you." 

The vampire frowned at the woman before him. "What do you mean, Dru?" 

She pressed her delicate hand over his heart. "In here, you hurt, my sweet boy. Your pain screams at me. Find her, William. Find her." 

"But Dru I--" 

"I love you, my Spike, I always will, but she is your heart now. She has been longer than you've known. Don't lose that because of some obligation to an old love." 

"But Dru--" 

"Go to her, I will be fine." A ghost of a smile tickled her lips. "Besides, I need my beauty sleep."

"You are always beautiful, luv," he said and planted a chaste kiss on her lips. "My Princess." 

Dru smiled and laid her head on the pillow and Spike watched as sleep overtook her. He had rarely left her side in the past month, depending on Willow and Dawn (who were a level above furious with him, though, at times, they had displayed sympathy) for supplies and updates on Buffy. 

Buffy. 

Even the thought of her tightened every cell within him. He had called dozens of times and never received anything more than a 'goodbye Spike'. He had no qualms with her anger, hell, he was angry with himself but, as he tried to explain in the multiple letters and messages left on her voicemail, he had to be there for Dru, at least until she was strong enough to face Angel. Spike only wished that Buffy could be there with him. But since that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon, it was time for him to go to her. 

Sparing a final glance at the sleeping vampire, Spike slid the duster over his shoulders and strolled out of the mansion with only one thing in mind. 

To see her again. 

~~~

**__**

But here we go again 

Asking where I been

Of course, a slight detour through a cemetery or seven was required to work up his nerve. Brushing the dust from his ninth dusted vampire, Spike renewed his trek towards Revello. Each step he took ignited a hanger full of napalm inside of him. It had been over a month since he had last seen her face and he steadied himself for the loathing those hazel eyes would hold for him. He didn't blame her and would welcome any punishment with open arms, so long as she forgave him. 

He wasn't a complete wanker. He knew he'd pulled a bloody Peaches with the whole 'helping the hopeless' bit but it had been the only…

"Bollock, mate," he growled at himself. "There's always another way, you were just too bloody stupid to see what it was." 

The self-flagellation continued up until a hundred yards from 1630. That was when he spotted the black convertible parked in the driveway. An indescribable, inexcusable rage filled him and Spike gritted his teeth. Not wasting another second, he streaked towards the house. 

Not bothering with the door, he scaled the tree that led into Buffy's old room. Common sense would have told him that she wouldn't be there, as it was now the guestroom, especially not in Angel's arms.

Common sense must have taken one hell of a vacation. 

A red haze clouded his vision and Spike had the urge to kill the two creatures that slept in the bed in front of him. 

She lay under the covers, her arms curled around her fluffy pillow and Mr. Gordo, who was left out in the cold atop the covers. _He _was also above the covers, one hand resting on the curve of her hip. Both seemed at peace though Spike saw the dried tracks of tears that marred Buffy's glorious face. Tears that he put there. Just as he had driven her back into the arms of her precious Angel. 

**__**

You can't see these tears are real 

I m cryin 

As he climbed down the tree, tears blinding his vision, Spike almost laughed at the ease at which his insecurities had risen within him. He was again reminded--painfully so--that he was, and always would be William the Bloody Awful. 

Wasn't life grand? 

~~~

__

November 2024

He felt her even before she crossed the threshold. Ordinarily he would have been out; now that Dru was lucid the majority of the time, there was no reason for him to remain by her side. That meant that he was always on the lookout for _her _and able to avoid _her _when necessary. 

"Hey, luv," he said, never turning his back to her. He slid a cigarette between his lips and swore when he couldn't find a lighter. 

"Hey," she said. 

"So," Spike said and turned to meet the love of his life eye to eye, "what brings you here?" 

"Spike, I--I've come here three times in the last week and you're never here. Hell, I've even talked to Drusilla--" That got his attention. 

"Have you now? She didn't seem to mention that bit o' info to me," he lied. Oh, Dru had indeed told him about Buffy's visits and their talks but he wouldn't let her in on that bit of info, just as he wouldn't let her flinch at his callous tone affect him.

"Angel told me what happened." 

Spike's eyes narrowed. "Which part? About me kickin' his poofy arse or the fact that he still think he knows what's best?" 

"Spike, it's not like that." 

The vampire threw the unlit fag to the ground. "Bollocks! I saw you two in bed together. Don't deny it, Buffy, I saw you…" 

"Just like I saw you and Dru, huh?" she replied, her natural spark returning. "He was there to comfort me because I didn't know what the hell was going on. I screwed up, okay." 

"So you admit it? You and him fuc…" 

**__**

We can't go on together 

With suspicious minds

She was in front of him before he could react and the hazel flames that bore into him reminded the vampire that this small speck of a woman was the reason the world was still here. 

"Don't even _think _about finishing that sentence." 

He shrugged. "Well, its true, innit?" 

Buffy rolled her eyes and he knew she was using all her power to keep her temper in check. "No, we did not do anything, Spike, you know why? Cause I'm married to a man I love more than life itself, a man that is acting like a complete and utter bonehead right about now." 

Spike's eyes widened and he took in his wife. "I'm a bonehead? _I'm _a bonehead? I wasn't the one who jumped off the mountaintop of conclusions two months ago." Buffy lowered her eyes. "I wasn't the one who wouldn't say more than a 'goodbye, Spike' for a bloody month. I…" 

"You're right." 

"Come again?" 

Buffy looked up at him and he saw the tears that fought for attention in her eyes. "I said that you're right. I did jump to conclusions and, regardless of what you tried to tell me, I made up my mind about what I had seen. I should have trusted you…" 

**__**

And we can't build our dreams 

On suspicious minds

"And I should have been there for you," he said and laid his hands on her shoulders. "You're my wife, Buffy and you always come first, no matter what." Spike refused to look her in the eye; unable to retain any more of his misplaced bravado. 

"Buffy, you're right, you did jump to conclusions but this isn't your fault. Yeah, you may have been able to handle it better, but I don't blame you. If the roles were reversed, I would've done the same thing--" on her dubious look he shrugged. "Okay, so maybe I wouldn't 'ave stayed away, but this whole cock-up is my fault. I should've talked to you, luv, made you understand. Should've asked for your help and, if you didn't offer, should've wiped my hands clean of Dru." 

"But what you did for her…" 

"Buffy, I…" 

She reached up and kissed him on the lips. "Shhh, let me finish. You have become such a strong, good man, Spike and what you did for Drusilla was proof of that. Yes, I should come first with you _but _there are times that, if you can help it, you put the pain of others before anyone else. I've done that my entire life and I should have realized that if you hadn't have done what you did, you wouldn't have been true to the Spike that I love. 

**__**

Oh let our love survive

Or drive the tears from your eyes

"We both screwed up; there's no use in one of us taking more of the blame. The truth is that we both saw with our fears, not our love. We won't do that again. 

"It may take some time for us to get through all of this, to heal, but I know we will. We'll always find each other. Always." 

"Always?" he asked. 

"Always," Buffy replied, "always and forever." 

No more words were spoken and the two lovers and mates embraced. They stayed that way for hours, content in the feel of loving arms wrapped tightly around them. Spike knew they had both screwed things up, he most of all and there was no doubt that he would be spending a great deal of time making restitution. But it didn't matter; as long as he held this slip of a woman in his heart and in his arms, everything would be okay. 

That's how it always was. 

**__**

Just don't let a good thing die

Honey you know I never lie to you.

TBC in** "Burning Love"…**


	9. Burnin Love

Chapter 9

__

Burning Love 

February 2031

She stared at the reflection in the mirror, depressed by the visage that mocked her. Gone was the seamless skin of her youth, replaced by the methodical lines and wrinkles of old age. Those damn crows' feet--and, really, they didn't even look like stupid, scraggly crows' feet--clawed at her eyes regardless of her mood; a singular scowl or a miracle marathon of giggles were enough to etch them in her face. And those soddin' lines that bracketed her mouth? Mom never had those. And the hair?

"Give one up for the wonders of hair dye," she muttered and tucked a strand of her bobbed hair behind her ear. 

"God, you're beautiful," the British voice sounded behind her, and Buffy leaned into the solid body of her lover, moaning when cool lips brushed across her neck. She stared into the mirror as invisible hands lifted up her white blouse, exposing the black lace of her bra. An excited giggle escaped her lips when those same hands squeezed her full breasts. It was a chain reaction, one that nearly thirty years together had yet to extinguish. Spike's every touch captivated her mind and body, and filled her with the need to join with him, to touch every part of him. Unfortunately, yielding to her amorous desires would leave those downstairs unattended to. 

"Stupid family," she muttered and reluctantly grabbed his wrists, even as her own body pressed into him. "Spike, we can't." 

He growled into her ear, obviously displeased, but continued that oh-so brilliant twirl and grind with his hips. "And why not, luv?" 

"You know why…" she said, her words cut off as blunt teeth scraped across her jugular. "God…" 

"Don't think He'd mind us love birds havin' some time to ourselves, considerin' tha wonderful bloke's the reason we never killed each other in the first place." 

Buffy chuckled and was thankful that Spike extricated himself from her body. Smoothing down her blouse, she turned to the man that had held her heart with a strength she never would have thought possible.   
"I love you so much," she whispered and her fingertips grazed alongside the razor edges of his eternally youthful cheeks. 

"Love you, too, Buffy," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist, "and I was about to show you how much, if you just cooperated a bit." 

"Yeah, with everyone downstairs, awaiting the birthday girl?" 

"Don't think they'd object to you blowin' out me candle this time, pet." 

Buffy laughed. "No way, buster," she said, poking him in the chest, "it's my birthday, so I gets the treats. Got it?" 

His face turned serious, eyes ridiculously wide. "Sorry, General; will commence oral pleasureage as soon as humanly, er, vampirely possible." 

Buffy's laughed and dropped her head; the sound of her own mirth reminded her of other times, times where she didn't feel so old and unattractive. 

"You're beautiful, luv," he said and she raised her eyes, sending a questioning gaze her way. He graced her with his one genuine smile, the one that was reserved for her and her alone (not even Dawn had seen this, although, of course, he had another Spike-smile reserved solely for "_his Bit". _Yeah, whatever). 

"What? Don't think I didn't know what you were thinkin' just now, luv? Give a bloke some credit, 'specially when he's the bleedin' emotional profit o' this lot of Sunnydalians." 

"Sunny wholians?" 

He shook his head. "You know what I mean, luv." 

"Personally I think the surfer talk just infested your mind and turned it to mush." 

"Ha bloody ha, Slayer. So, were you thinkin' 'bout how old you look?" 

The fire of arousal that still lingered heated, but transferred to her sense of indignation. How could he? 

"Thanks a lot for the report, Mr. Stay young forever," she spat and turned her head. His hands clamped over her biceps in an iron grip and he whirled her around. 

"What is wrong with you, Summers?" he asked, and were it not for the tinge of amusement in his tone, she would have back down. As it was, his exasperation only intensified her disdain. 

"My problem? My husband just told me that I look old and you want to know what my problem is?" 

"Luv, I…" 

"It's not like I need a reminder, you know. Everyday I look in the mirror, I know I'm a step closer to…" She trailed off, unable to say the words. 

"A step closer to what?" 

But Buffy didn't hear him. Her mind could only see him and Dru, walking off together in the sunset, their beauty remaining for all of days. 

"Buffy?"

Snapping herself awake, the slayer gave her husband a bitter smile. "The others are waiting, we better go," she said and brushed past him. Any other time the British curse that filtered from the room would have produced a giggle from her, but now the only thing Buffy could think about was when Spike would get tired of her. They had lived their entire lives together; never lacking on the passion that burned within both of them. But passion never lasted. One day it would fizzle until it was no more, and that's when Spike would do what everyone else had done in her life, leave her. 

Yeah, turning fifty was no fun at all. 

~~~

"Guys you shouldn't have," Buffy said, wrapping her arms around Willow and Kennedy. 

"I tried to tell Red that," Kennedy replied, "those tickets were hella expensive." Buffy giggled when Willow elbowed the younger woman in the ribs. 

"It wasn't _that _expensive, Buff, and, hey, even if it was…" 

"I know, I know; dealing with two millionaires. Rub it in why don't ya." 

Willow's face fell but Kennedy only smiled. She snaked her arms around the red head's neck and kissed Willow on the cheek. "C'mon, sweetie, you know Buffy's kidding. Hell, the way the Council's paid her over the last thirty years, you think she's hurting for money?" 

Buffy smiled at Willow's incredulous frown, twisting away when the red head swatted at her. "You, you meanie." 

"You know I had to mess with you, Wills. Still, two weeks in the Caymans, all expenses paid, I know it wasn't cheap." 

"Doesn't matter," Kennedy said and squeezed Buffy's hand, "you're worth every penny." Buffy's eyes clouded over and she fought back the tears, though when she saw the same reflection in Kennedy's eyes, the floodgates opened. 

"I love you guys so much," Buffy said and the three embraced. 

"We love you, too, Buffy," Willow said, running her hand down Buffy's back. "We love you so much." 

Buffy didn't want to let go of these two women who were just as much sisters to her as Dawn was, but a pointed cough from the latter broke the moment. 

"Geez, people," Dawn said from the lap of her husband, "get a grip." 

"Connor," Buffy said, "I still don't know how you deal with Ms. Bad and Moody." 

The dark-haired man shrugged. "Genetics." 

The entire room was quiet, pondering the reticent man's comment when it struck Buffy. Her eyes lit up and she threw a pillow at her ex-lover's son. "Hey." 

"What?" Dawn asked. 

"Well," Xander's wife, Tasha said from the couch, "if I'm not mistaken, I'd say that was an insult. What do you think, sweetie?" 

Xander held his hands up. "Sorry, but not touching that one with all the poles in the world." 

"Wimp."

"Ow," Connor moaned and everyone turned towards the couple in the chair. "What was that for." 

"Tash was right," Dawn said, "that was an insult." 

Rubbing his arm, Connor muttered "If Spike was here, he'd understand." 

Buffy's head shot up at the mention of her man and she searched the living room, with no sign of him. 

"Where is my bleached baby at?" She asked, hiding the fear that he was still mad at the tiff they'd had earlier. But he didn't seem like he was, she thought. 

"I saw him go out when you and the Dawnster were jumping up and down over those Lacey Stride tickets." 

"What?" Dawn asked. "She's awesome." 

Xander chuckled, running a hand through his predominantly gray hair. "Yeah, but she's for the…" Tasha's finger fell across his lips and she shook her head. 

"Baby, I love you, really I do. But if you decide to finish that last thought, well, all the love in the world's not gonna stop me from joining Buffy and Dawn in kickin your little bitty ass." 

"Point taken," he said and kissed the back of his wife's hand. The gesture sent a pang of grief down her spine. Spike should have been here, doing that to her. Whenever the Scoobs got together like this he was always on her, doing his damnedest to embarrass the others with his blatant affection. Although he had joked with her earlier, he had behaved himself, no overwhelming displays of affection. 

The slamming of the back door ripped Buffy's attention back to the present. She glanced at the others, all of which had less than innocent looks on their faces. Before she could interrogate them, she heard a voice of a person she hadn't seen in nearly three years. 

"I'm perfectly capable of making it through the house on my own, you pillock." 

"I'm just tryin' to help, _Da." _

"I swear if Buffy didn't love you so much, I'd have a right mind to introduce you to my number two pencil right about now. And why the bloody hell didn't we come through the front?" 

"It's a surprise, Rupes…" Spike trailed off when they entered the living room, his eyes falling onto Buffy. "Of course, since you 'ave absolutely no clue how to keep your voice down, no more surprise." 

"Giles?" Buffy whispered and walked towards the man who had, by all definitions, been her father. Aside from the white shock of hair and his cane, not to mention an extra wrinkle or two, this was the same man that had approached her in the Sunnydale High library all those years ago. Right down to the tweed suit. 

"Happy Birthday, Buffy." He barely had a chance to finish the greeting when Buffy embraced him. She fought the urge to squeeze him tighter and instead inhaled that masculine scent that was all him. 

"I missed you so much," she said and opened her eyes just enough to make contact with Spike, letting him know that Giles wasn't the only one she missed. 

~~~

"I'd like to make a toast," Spike said and stood. "To Buffy: the strongest, most wonderful person we've ever had the privilege of knowing." 

"To Buffy," everyone replied. Buffy fought the tears that welled in her eyes, powerless to steam the tide of emotion that threatened to consume her. These people, this wonderful family of hers was everything--more--that she'd always wanted. Without them she would have never made it through high school, much less the past thirty years. She opened her mouth to tell them but Spike's voice cut her off. 

"Now," he said and set his glass down on the table, "since I apparently made a fool of myself earlier today in my wife's company, I suss its time for me to apologize to her. 

"Buffy," he said and flicked a button on the stereo remote, "I think it's time you know how burnin' my love is for you…" 

Buffy scowled until the familiar guitar and piano wafted through the air. Spike leapt over the table, dropped to his knees and faced her. His cerulean gaze was filled with the love of a thousand years and she shuddered. But when his tenor voice belted the first notes, her body simmered with the desire to have this man to herself. 

__

Lord almighty 

I feel my temperature risin' 

Higher and higher

It's burnin' through to my soul

Spike's hand came over his chest before he stood and walked over to her, taking her hand. 

__

Girl, girl, girl, you gonna set me on fire 

My brain is flamin' 

I don't know which way to go 

She squealed when he lifted her into his arms and twirled her in the air. 

__

Your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir 

You light my mornin' sky

Burnin' love 

He lowered her to her feet and Buffy swooned, from her still spinning head to the passion that coursed through her veins. She barely registered Spike behind her, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her close. 

__

I feel my temperature risin'

Help me I m flamin' 

I must be 109

Burnin', burnin', burnin',

And nothin' can cool me

I just might turn into smoke

And I feel fine 

He buried his face in her hair and her hands rubbed his arms that were around her waist. Her hips swayed to the music and Spike followed suit. Though his erection reminded of just what she wanted, she couldn't help but fall into the rhythmic pulse of her heart. 

__

Your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir 

You light my mornin' sky

Burnin' love

Spike pushed Buffy away and she would have fallen were it not for his tight grip. He took her hands in his and turned her towards him. Her hands fell to the black shirt that clung to his body and she licked her lips. 

__

It's comin' closer

The flames are now lickin' my body 

I know what I wanna lick, she thought as her eyes grazed over his entire body. 

__

Wont you help me

I feel like I m slippin' away 

It's hard to breathe 

My chest is a' heavin'

Lord have mercy 

I m burnin' a hole where I lay 

His eyes twinkled with desire and Buffy's knees faltered, and she responded by pulling him closer towards him. Her lips caressed his cheek, then chin before falling to his pulsing Adam's Apple. 

__

Your kisses lift me higher

Like the sweet song of a choir 

You light my mornin' sky

Burnin' love

I m just a hunka hunka burnin love

No sooner than the last line was sung did Buffy plunder Spike's soft lips with hers. His hands roamed the small expanse of her back and she tangled her fingers in his hair. The taste of this man was like nothing she had ever experienced. It was almost as if he was a drug and she had been a junkie for the last three decades on the taste of Spike. 

Several loud coughs pulled the slayer back to reality and she reluctantly pulled away from Spike. 

"Well," Dawn said, smiling despite the blush rising on her cheeks, "if I'd have known we'd be getting the porn show, I may have brought my video cam, sold the tape on eBay." 

"Dawn," Kennedy said, aghast. "How could you?" 

"C'mon, Ken…" 

"I mean, we could get a lot more money if we mass produced it, sold it independently." 

Buffy stared at her chuckling friends in horror, "You guys! I can't believe you all." 

Giles cleared his throat and his eyes were on the glasses that he was viciously cleaning, "Well, in all fairness, Buffy, you were the one, erm, 'getting jiggy with it'."

"Excuse me," Xander said, wiping his mouth, "I was busy kissing my wife, but did Giles just make a funny? Using old school hip-hop?" 

"I think he did, sweetie," Tasha said. 

"And here I thought his talents ended with the blues singing," Willow said, snaking her arm around Kennedy's waist. 

"While I'd love to stay around and chat with you lovely people," Spike said and hoisted Buffy into his arms. She gasped but wrapped her arms around his neck, "I have a lovely wife to make love to fifty times." 

As they traversed the steps, Buffy heard Giles' sarcastic murmur of, "Well, that wasn't too embarrassing, now was it?" 

~~~

Several hours and countless orgasms later (was it fifty? Cause, taking in the numbness, it sure as hell could have been) Buffy lay in the arms of her lover. Her head rested on his chest and her fingers idly traced the lines in his stomach. 

"So," she murmured against his skin, pride filling her when he held his breath, "was that my birthday present, cause, really, if it was, I don't think you need to give me anything for the next ten years."

Her body vibrated when his amorous chuckle filtered through the atmosphere of sex and love. "Well, can't say that it wasn't part of your prezzie." 

"Part of my prezzie?" she asked and sat up. The smirk on his face made the hackles rise at the back of her neck. "Spike…" 

She sighed when she lost contact with his body. He was rustling around in the drawer for something before he lay back next to her. 

"Here," he said and handed her a small picture of a house. 

Buffy smiled as looked at the house. From the outside, it appeared to be a little bigger than their current home. The front doors (and boy, were they nice) were guarded by twin columns--columns that lined the front expanse of the house. The front yard was much larger than the current one and Buffy thought she saw a garden off to the side. But the large, white fence was what drew her attention. It circled the front yard, and despite the somewhat out of place nature of it, Buffy couldn't help but love it. 

"You like?" 

Buffy's grin fell slightly and she shook her head. "It's beautiful. It looks a little Victorian, though." 

"That it is, luv. The inside's the same. Course, you can do it up any way you like." 

"Yeah," she said, "I would--Spike? What did you just say?" 

His smirk transformed into a genuine smile and he cupped her cheek. "I said that you could do it up any way you like."

"But…how?" 

" 'S ours, Buffy. One of my family's homes in Bath." 

"…" 

"Looked in on some stuff the last few years, did some correspondence with the last remaining Sumner to get the scoop on it. Bloke died last year and since he actually believed my story, that I was a Sumner, left it to me. Course, the whole white picket fence wasn't there before. 'Ad that put in a few months ago."

"This…this is ours?" 

"Yeah. Now, don't think I wanna move out of good ole Sunny D, away from the fam, far from it," he reassured her. "But when we wanna get away for a few months, well, there's our summer-Summers' home, luv." 

Buffy stared at the picture through the haze of tears. She had always wanted to have another home but had thought it hubris to do so. Knowing that Spike did this for her--that he thought that much of her was almost too much to bear. 

"Buffy?" She turned to him, dropping the picture on the comforter between them. The emotion coursing through her temporarily abated her numbness and she slid on top of Spike. She knew it was impossible for words to express her love for him at this moment, so she used the only approach that could ever convey her feelings to him. 

And as they made love, speaking no words the rest of the night, the moonlight slid through the crack in the shade, illuminating the two lovers whose passion had only intensified in their time together and would continue to do so for as long as she was alive…

Next…_Love Me Tender…_The final chapter 


	10. Love Me Tender

Chapter 10 

__

Love Me Tender

April 2082

****

Love me tender

Love me sweet 

Never let me go

He'd known it was coming for years now. After all, it was inevitable. She was only human and, despite being a slayer, aging much slower than a normal person; still, she was only human. 

**__**

You have made my life complete 

And I love you so

William Summers stared into the mahogany coffin, a sad smile twitching off and on as he stared at the beautiful image of his wife of seventy years. Even in death (a repose he had seen her in once before) she was magnificent. Her once blonde, once brunette hair that had fallen past her waist for the last decade, was now a shimmering white and wisps of blonde littered throughout. Although her skin was not the soft, unblemished canvas of her youth, neither was it the wrinkled visage of a woman a century old. He always thought it funny that, after fifty years, it was as if time let her be. Oh, the little things gave away her slowly aging body; even when she didn't know it, he did. He studied her with the most critical eye, never judging her but barely keeping his heart from breaking as the years piled on. How he wished that her abilities had remained static like her appearance. But it was not to be. 

**__**

Love me tender

Love me true

All my dreams fulfilled

"You still look beautiful, love," he said, his knuckles brushing across the silken tresses of her hair. "Just as beautiful as the last time we…" He caught a sob before it rang through the halls of the church. He knew his two companions would say nothing and, in fact probably spilled tears of their own. But he wouldn't. No, he had promised her that he wouldn't cry--not if it meant losing himself completely…

_"Are you daft, luv?" He sits up, staring at the woman who has been by his side for decades. _

"Spike," she says and her voice is a lamentation not even a seraphim could produce. "I'm serious. I want you to…" 

"No, luv," he yells, jumping from the bed, ignorant of his nudity. He claws at his hair, and turns toward his wife. Her body, as fit as if she had never stopped slaying--though she's filled out quite nicely--is bathed in the moonlight that cascades through the window. The black satin of the sheet covers nothing but the lower half of one leg, the rest of her exposed to his cerulean gaze. "How could you even ask that of me?" 

"Spike." She motions to get up but he shoos her back into place. 

"Don't, Buffy, please don't." 

She hesitates, then gets up and crosses the short distance between them. Taking his hands into hers, she wills him to look into her eyes. He does and is surprised to find tears in those hazel suns. He wants to wipe them away but she doesn't relinquish her grip. 

"Spike, I love you. I love you with all that I am and God knows that if I could, I would stay with you forever…" 

"There's always…" 

****

For my darling, I love you 

And I always will

"We both know that's not an option. I may be a lover of the undead but I don't wanna become one. No offense." 

"None taken, luv, none taken." 

"Spike," she says and again he is drawn to the slight curve of her lips as his name falls from them as if a prayer. "But I would, for you, if I knew you'd feel the same way about me, if you wouldn't feel guilty for the rest of our lives for turning me." 

Though he takes slight offense to that, his face contorts into anger. He rips his hands away from her and snarls, turning his back. A relief has swept over him, the anger pushing past the pain of thinking of the--the unthinkable. 

"Is that how shallow you think my love is? You think that being a vampire would change the way I feel about you? How dare you?" 

"Spike, I…" 

"You know we could get your soul back, anchor it right and proper. Just like Peaches."   
"Are you sure it would be mine?" 

He opens his mouth to call her a daft chit but stops. He's never thought of that. "But Angel…" 

"Angel said that the way he is now is nothing compared to his human self. Spike, he remembers how he was as Liam. Despite the horror that Angelus reigned over the world, even he doesn't think Liam could have ever become what he is now." 

"I don't get it." 

"I don't, either. But that's not the point. The point, Spike, is what if the soul I got was not my own? What if there was the tiniest change in the way I saw you, or the way you saw me? Could we live our lives like that, with a piece of our love missing?" 

She touches him on the shoulder and he pulls away. She's right, the bloody bint. Seems like the older she gets the more time's she's right. Still, he's not gonna give her the satisfaction. 

"Spike…" Not yet, at least. 

She doesn't react to his movement, probably didn't see it. But just like that, she's in his arms, her head pillowed against his chest. 

"God, Buffy, I…I can't even think about it. Losing you, it…" But he can't finish and now it's she who is comforting him. The sobs are like nothing he's ever heard and it takes him a minute to realize they are coming from him. Somewhere deep inside of his soul--the thought of losing Buffy--his love, his soul mate--more unbearable than the seething pain of all the tortures he's ever faced. Her voice is distant, but he hears her words and they give him a modicum of strength. 

"I love you more than anything, William. Know that. Please don't cry baby, I'm not going anywhere, not if I can help it. I just don't want to be the reason that you die. And if you cry for me when I'm gone, I know what you'll want to do. That's the only reason, baby. I don't want you to die because of me, god I don't…" 

Her tears join his as she repeats her mantra and Spike's heart fractures even more at the despair in her voice, as if she were already being pulled away from him. His tears come faster, harder and his unnecessary breaths come in gasps. And yet he hears himself uttering his promise to her. As the words leaves his mouth, she nods, holding him tighter, promising to stay with him. Stay with him forever…

****

Love me tender

Love me long

Take me to your heart

That had been three weeks ago. Between that night and Thursday morning they were closer than usual. He watched her with an even keener eye and she him. He never would have thought anything to be wrong, what with the vitality she showed in those last few weeks. And then…

_He rolls over, his arm falling across her stomach, his face nuzzling her hair. He smiles in his sleep as her scent pulls him from the pits of exhaustion. There is nothing greater than waking up next to her, the warmth of her body, the fragrance of her hair, the staccato rhythm of her heart. He frowns; her skin is a bit cooler than usual but he feels the draft blowing through the open window. Course it doesn't help that she's sleeping with a dead guy, room temperature body. He thinks that he's gonna have to just wake her up. He kisses her jugular, waiting for the adorable murmur of annoyance and arousal that always accompanies such a move. _

****

For its there that I belong 

And we'll never part

She doesn't stir. 

He chuckles, still swimming from the deep ends of unconsciousness. She must be in just as deep a sleep. It's unusual for her not to instantly react but there have been times he's had to use more than one tactic to wake her. 

His hand settles on her belly, rubbing her soft flesh and he nips the hollow of her neck. 

She doesn't stir. 

"Tryin' to play possum, luv," he whispers in her ear, knowing that the sound of his voice always has an effect that she can never hide. She's told him the sound…

His eyes widen and he remains completely still, concentrating everything on his acute hearing, his listens to the birds chirping, the fridge doing its thing, the house settling. But there is nothing from her. Nothing. 

"Buffy." His voice is unintelligible even to himself. He sits up slowly, bringing a shaking hand to her face. She's so still. He's never seen her this way, except…except that night when she jumped. 

"Oh God, please no." Bile rushes to his mouth and his throat constricts. He thinks he will spasm his guts out but tries to hold it in. Just as it's becomes too much, he turns away, spilling the contents of his stomach onto the sheets and carpeting. Wiping his mouth, he turns blurry eyes back to her. He can feel the prickling at the back of his neck, the telltale alarm of sunrise. But try as he may, he cannot focus on anything but her still form. His mind is blank, he doesn't know what to do but the twittering of birds draws his eyes back to the window. A single ray of light slides under the shade and calls to him. It wants to end the pain that has yet to register, ease his suffering. God how he wants it. Every fiber of his being tries to push him towards the open window, whispering to him, "Hold her once more, watch the sunrise with her in your arms." For one second the urge is too much and he slips his arm underneath her head. His other arms freezes and as much as his soul wants to, he can't. 

He promised. 

****

Love me tender 

Love me true 

All my dreams fulfilled

Laying her head gently onto the pillow, he rolls over and grabs the phone. He's promised her, but as strong as his word is, it will not save him today. Not if he's alone…

"Hello?" The voice is gruff, a twinge of annoyance and a bone-deep weariness. 

"Angel…" All things considered, his voice is not nearly as weak as he tumbling soul. "I need you…" 

The hand on his shoulder drew Spike's mind back into the presence. He turned to the imposing figure on his right. The man there had become a true Sire in the past fifty years, due in part to their tending of Drusilla but more along the lines of Buffy's stubbornness. Aside from the two women in his life, he'd never been as close to anyone as he now was with Angel. 

**__**

For my darling, I love you 

And I always will

He hoped to see the older vampire's strength, his resolve not to be broken. He needed that to stay sane. But when he saw the tears flowing freely from his Sire's brown eyes, Spike's world crumbled. 

Angel's arms were around him before he fell to the floor and Spike held on to the larger man's body with all the strength in his undead arms. His mouth was open in a silent scream and, were it any other time, he would have laughed at the delay. But when the horrible cry pierced the air, Spike didn't know if he would ever laugh again. 

"There now, William," Angel whispered in his ear and the tenderness only made the gash in his soul wider. The salty tears of his Sire bled with his own and Spike's nails dug into the leather of Angel's coat. They rocked back and forth, entwined in the most intimate embrace and it took eternity for Spike to gather the strength to voice his pain. 

"I can't do it, Angel. I can't go on without 'er. God, please don't make me, Angel, please don't make me…I can't, Angel, I can't." As much as he believed the words, Spike wanted to hear something--anything--from his Sire. He knew that if Angel said it, he would have no choice but to go on. Yet all that answered him was a choked sob and Spike knew he would not last the day. 

**__**

Love me tender 

Love me dear

Tell me you are mine

"You can, William," the dulcet voice whispered in his ear, just as a fragile hand smoothed his shirt. "You can and you will." 

"Dru…" But words were lost in the realization that Buffy was gone and Spike could only reach back, pulling Drusilla against him. 

She didn't speak for several minutes, not until Spike and Angel's cries had tapered off somewhat. When she did, Spike heard the agony in her voice; it had been Drusilla that had been there for Buffy when Dawn had become ill; it had been Drusilla that had coaxed the slayer from her malaise when Dawn had finally died. And it had been Dru that became Buffy's surrogate sister and it had been that way for twenty years. He had always teased Buffy about the screwed up family they had but he never could have been happier. 

**__**

I'll be yours through all the years

Till the end of time 

"She'd want you--_us--_to live, William. I loved her as much as I've loved anyone, even you and Angel, and it hurts more than I could ever put into words. But we cannot let it stop us, Spike, we cannot." 

"But how, Dru? How do I go on?" 

The slender woman slid to Spike's side and her arms fell across his and Angel's shoulders. As she rubbed their necks, their eyes slowly turned to her and Spike saw her own tears shimmering in the candlelight. 

"We make the best of it, for her. There is still so much we can do. So many people we can help. Buffy would have wanted it that way." She lowered her eyes and when she looked back up, a sad smile infiltrated her thin face. "Evil may never sleep, but good never dies." 

Spike was shocked when he laughed. It may have been a near deathly sound but it was a laugh no less. "When did you get to be so poetic?" 

"I didn't," she said. If possible, her melancholy grew. Her eyes skirted up towards the coffin on the dais before settling back to his face. "I learned it from watching the strongest person I've ever known." 

The following silence stretched well into the night and the three vampires never moved from their position. They took comfort in their bonds of blood, emotions and souls, knowing that with each other they could get through this. 

"Don't mean to break up the Kodak moment, folks," Spike said after a long pause, a part of his old self coming through, "but if Dru's right, don't we have Evil to vanquish." 

"Spike," Angel said and the softness in his voice nearly pulled the bleached blonde back into the oblivious depths of despair. 

"Not tonight, Angel, please don't." His sapphire eyes took in Angel and Dru. He saw that they understood yet he spoke the words anyway. "Tomorrow, we'll grieve. But tonight…" 

"Tonight…" Angel repeated. 

"…We'll be heroes," Dru finished. 

**__**

Love me tender

Love me true 

All my dreams fulfilled

They rose as one and, arms linked, strode out the church but not before each gave a final kiss to the woman who had delivered them all from the paths of despair, evil and madness. Buffy was their savior and the least they could do was to keep her memory alive. Oh, Spike knew that one day they would all be dust; either they would meet their end fighting the good fight or finally gaining their redemption. No one, even vampires, was meant to live forever. Only the memory of his slayer could ever do that. Yeah, he would see her again, all three of them would. And when that day came, Spike would welcome it with open arms. To finally be at rest, to spend eternity at peace with the woman who had driven him to do the impossible. Oh, how he looked forward to that day. But until then…

**__**

For my darling, I love you

Until then, he would live. 

And he would fight. 

But most of all, he would make her proud.

__

****

And I always will…

****

THE END

A/N: Well, that's it. This chappie was really tough to write. I've done Buffy/Spike deaths before but never like this. Dying saving the world, dying as a hero has more substance to me. To die like this, so quiet when you lived so proud, larger than life, really hits a spot. Maybe it's because that's what live has prepared for us. Like Spike said to Buffy in the kitchen (a line I borrowed) "We'll go be heroes." And you may not do the big deeds in life, but if you do the little things to make people feel better about themselves, then you are a hero. And isn't that what we all look to be in our lives--even if no one else knows. 

Cause that's the sacrifice a hero often has to make. 


End file.
